


Magnetic Field

by daphnerunning, Galiko



Category: Ensemble Stars! (Video Game)
Genre: M/M, Polyamory
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-22
Updated: 2017-11-22
Packaged: 2019-02-05 07:13:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 16
Words: 99,587
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12789495
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/daphnerunning/pseuds/daphnerunning, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Galiko/pseuds/Galiko
Summary: There's a person for everyone in the universe, and sometimes, it's just too scary to admit that person has been there all along.Eichi and Shu try to date (and fail).





	1. Chapter 1

His grandfather is on death’s door (again), and that means it’s time for his mother to disappear for the day off to some shrine. It’s the third time this month, and this time, for whatever reason, she insists upon bringing him.

 

Let it be known that Tenshouin Eichi, at the old age of seven, does _not_ do well in cars. Tenshouin Maria knows this, does not care on this particular day, and pointedly ignores how pale and wan her only son is by the time she steps out of the car, her heels clicking across the asphalt outside of the enormous shrine walls, embellished with only a single wood placard— _Hasumi_.

 

“Just being in this place will be good for you,” Eichi dimly hears her insist over the hazy thudding of his pulse in his ears. Maria pets his head, dismissive but affectionate, smoothing jet black hair out of his flushed face. “Be a good child, and absorb some healing energy or whatever while Mommy talks about her father’s funeral.”

 

And thus, unattended and not strapped to a hospital bed for the first time that he can remember, lingering nausea takes a backseat to _something_ like freedom.

 

Shrines—temples? what’s the difference, actually?—like this just sticking out of the streets in Tokyo are so _strange_ , but this one is stranger because of its size. It’s not just a shrine; it’s _land_ , and there are very, very few actual visitors coming and going. His mother’s absent-mindedness gives him the chance to better explore the nooks and crannies of the place, where he eventually stumbles upon the open-air room meant for calligraphy, only occupied by one small, hunched form—who is definitely not doing calligraphy.

 

“What’re you drawing?” When’s the last time he got to speak to another _child_ , anyway? That alone is why Eichi has no compunction about boldly leaning over the other child from behind, wishing he didn’t sound so out of breath from just walking, but maybe he won’t notice.

 

Inwardly, Keito groans before he even looks up. Of course, he’d be interrupted now. He lets out a disgruntled huff, setting aside his charcoal stick, folding his arms over his chest. His hands are smudged with charcoal and ink from his earlier calligraphy lesson (that he’s supposed to be continuing now, but whatever). “Guests aren’t supposed to be back here,” he says, taking in the sight of the other child. He’s really skinny, and looks kind of cold, and is _really_ in Keito’s space. “This is the kuin, are you lost?”

 

Eichi blinks back at him with enormous blue eyes made bluer by dark lashes and the wispy, fine fall of his hair around his face. _Don’t you know who I am?_ is the first thing that comes to mind, but he stops himself. What if he _doesn’t_ know? Has he ever met someone that _doesn’t_ know who the Tenshouin family is, and most importantly, who he is, immediately upon sight?

 

“…My mom’s here to talk about a funeral or something.” Unfazed by the glaring, Eichi plops down next to him. “So I left.”

 

Immediately, Keito turns and bows, hands in front of him the way he always sees his father and grandfather do, and mouths the familiar words. “I’m deeply sorry about your loss.” His father would probably prefer some time alone with the parents, of course, he thinks. Whenever he’s rushed and can’t push their guests to spring for the deluxe package, his father always winds up in a bad mood.

 

And the boy _had_ asked, so it’s not like he’s showing off in front of the Buddha, _Hiroto_ , he thinks darkly at his big brother, and grabs his paper. “Um…I have a bunch if you wanna see.”

 

“He’s not dead yet, but he’s soo mean and should be,” Eichi says without care, rolling his eyes, but he immediately perks up when it looks like he’s going to be privy to something that isn’t just funerals and hospitals after all. “Yeah, I wanna see. I’m—“ _No, it’s better if he keeps not knowing, it’s sooo much better._ “Eichi, just Eichi. What’s your name? Do you work here, too, even though you’re a kid?”

 

“I’m not just a kid,” Keito says, bored and proud all at once. “I’m the _priest’s_ kid. It’s pretty important.” His skinny chest puffs out, and he hands over his drawing. “It’s…oh, my name’s Keito, Hasumi Keito. And that’s…do you read manga?”

 

“I’m not allowed to. Uwaa, you’re really good!” Eichi glances up, his eyes sparkling. “If you’re the priest’s kid, then that’s _cool._ You’re like an Angel of Death or something. Have you seen dead people before? Like, lots of them? Even your calligraphy’s so pretty, I suck at it. Left-handed.”

 

Keito’s eyebrows raise. “That’s pretty weird,” he says confidently, but with a little smile on his face. “I’m trying to learn to draw people, so Mother lets me draw the stiffs sometimes—I mean, uh, the dearly departed. You wanna see my sketchpad?”

 

“Yeah. Hey, you should draw me. I mean, you can wait until I die if you want, it won’t be long,” Eichi says with a shrug, handing Keito’s drawing back over. “But you can do it when I’m alive, too. I’ll play dead if that helps.”

 

Keito’s head tilts, but he stands out of seiza, offering the other boy his hand. “Follow me. Are you dying? I’m supposed to get trained in dying people soon.”

 

“…How do you get _trained_ in that?” Eichi asks, mystified, but to be fair, most of _his_ lessons seem equally out there and without real use. He reaches out, taking Keito’s hand, and only realizes then exactly how cold he is. “Warm,” he murmurs, hauling himself to his feet with a shiver. “The doctors say I’m dying, but my mom doesn’t want to listen to them. But it’s okay, I don’t really care.”

 

“I’ve never seen a funeral for a kid before.” Most kids, Keito thinks, would be really freaked out by this conversation. Smugly, he plays it cool, which he can do, because he is no normal kid. “Wow, your hands are really cold, maybe you are sick. What kind of funeral do you want?”

 

“I’m usually not allowed out, but my mom forgot today,” Eichi confides, clinging to Keito’s hand. He’s _so_ warm in comparison that it’s impossible not to. “There are different kinds? I thought people just got burnt up and that was the end of it.”

 

Keito shakes his head vehemently. “Oh, no way! There’s lots and lots of upgrades. You can pay to get better incense, and flowers, and a whole lot more mourners, and your urn can get really fancy. Uhh, I think most of the money is for the food, though…there’s always a lot of it when some rich guy dies.”

 

 _My grandfather’s as rich as they come, so everyone can stuff their face if he dies, at least_ , Eichi thinks with a little huff. “That sounds dumb…if you’re dead, it doesn’t matter, right?” He goes silent nonetheless, thinking. “Dying sounds kinda fun, actually. I always thought it was just the burning part, but I want someone to pick out fancy flowers for me.”

 

Keito edges closer, and takes on a conspiratorial air, as if he’s confiding a long-held secret. “I don’t want any flowers at my funeral,” he admits. “I want weird, thistley briars, the kind that grow in the mountains, so if anyone disturbs my ashes, they get pricked. Maybe poisoned. I haven’t thought that far ahead yet, but it would make a cool story, right?”

 

Eichi stares back at him, then leans close, his voice very solemn as he says, “I want someone to grind up my ashes with tea and serve it at my funeral. If _I_ don’t get to know what a person tastes like, other people should.”

 

Keito’s eyes light up. “Do you want them to know it’s you?” he asks, not nearly as grossed out as most kids of his age would be. “Because, like, I’m gonna be in charge of a lot of funerals when I’m older. I can totally be in charge of tea.”

 

“Only after they start drinking it. _Then_ they can know.” Eichi looks intensely pleased that Keito doesn’t as much as bat an eye. “You can definitely be in charge of my funeral. The doctors say I have about two months to live, so that’s probably enough time to plan it right.”

 

“Two months?” Keito looks at the other boy—yes, he does look pale, he does look shaky, and no wonder his mother hadn’t minded him coming along to a place like this. He nods slowly, and pulls out a notebook. “We don’t have too much time,” he says seriously. “It’s gotta be really good, for sure. So we can just work on that together for a couple months. What kind of urn is your favorite?”

 

“Dunno! What’s the point if I’m getting made into tea?” Eichi complains, grabbing onto Keito’s arm to cling to it. “You’ve gotta make it fancy. I want everyone to remember me like that, not as someone sick and dying.”

 

“You’re…touching me.” No one touches Keito like that, not really. He swallows hard, and starts to sketch. “You should get some really expensive flowers so everyone gets scared, like orchids. You should _definitely_ have live orchids everywhere. They’re weird, you know?”

 

“Ooh, that sounds good. I like weird flowers. I _want_ blue roses, but they don’t exist for real, apparently…” Eichi sighs, holding onto Keito’s arm, unfazed by his reaction. “You’re nice and warm. Is it bad if I touch you?”

 

“I—“ Keito shrugs, face flushed, not sure what the weird hot feeling in his face is. “I guess not. Dunno why you want to, though…Also, I can totally dye roses for you.”

 

“No one else touches me, either. They’re afraid I’ll get sick and die, but I’m _going to_ no matter what, so they might as well touch me.” Eichi blinks up at him as he rests his cheek against Keito’s shoulder. “You can dye flowers? That’s so cool. I want that, and I want you to stick whatever drawings you’ve made of me everywhere. Or burn them with me, maybe, I’m not sure.”

 

“Really?” That’s exciting, and Keito’s fingers itch. “Would you maybe…sit still while I draw you, sometime? No one in my family wants to, and my horse _really_ won’t. I have to wait until he’s sleeping.”

 

“I’ll do it right now, I’m _really_ good at sitting still.” Even if that means he can’t keep clinging to Keito, who is a nice, solid (if not skinny) body to snuggle against. “You have a _horse?_ ”

 

“Yeah, he’s kind of old,” Keito mutters, and tugs on Eichi’s arm. “You gotta come to my room, though. That’s where my _good_ drawing stuff is.”

 

“Okay! But we have to go now, or my mom will find me and make me leave.” Eichi stare is intent as he clings to Keito’s arm. “Hide me.”

 

Deep down, Keito is pretty sure he’s not supposed to be doing any of this…but his parents _had_ said to behave himself around the guests, right? Sure, he can pretend that’s the way this works.

 

He tugs Eichi into his room, then starts pulling out his drawing supplies—two sticks of charcoal, a big eraser, a few large sheets of paper, and a mechanical pencil. “I don’t have that many good things yet,” he warns, “because I’m supposed to be working on my prayers and stuff first. But I can draw okay. Pick a cool pose you can hold.”

 

“I’m gonna sit, or my knees get weird,” Eichi says with a roll of his eyes, plopping himself down after glancing around Keito’s room. It’s large—not as large as his own—and _very_ traditional, which is a pretty cool. He arranges himself as comfortably as possible while still being pretty sure that he’s awesome-looking. “So when I die, I don’t want anyone else in charge of my funeral. Old people never have good ideas. Are you gonna do this kinda thing for the rest of your life, like your parents?”

 

Keito looks side to side, and lowers his voice. “It’s a secret,” he whispers. “But I really wanna be a mangaka, not a priest. I bet I can do both, though, if I’m sneaky. Plenty of writers have a secret life, you know?”

 

“That’s cool, too, though. You should have a secret pen name and everything.” Eichi hesitates, then leans forward, even though he’s not supposed to be moving. Whatever, he can be still in a minute. “I don’t wanna take over my family’s business, either,” he admits. “It’s not cool, or fun. I wanna be a singer.” 

 

“Cool!” Keito beams, and sets out a large sheet of paper, smoothing it down and setting books on the sides to keep it immobile. “Okay, sit back or stay there, I wanna try to get the pose okay. You’re pretty enough to be a famous singer, I guess.”

 

“You _guess?_ I’m definitely pretty enough,” Eichi huffs, sitting back and determinedly holding still. “You’re drawing me, so you must think I’m pretty.”

 

“I don’t care!” Keito says suddenly, too-fast, hand moving in careful little lines. “I just like drawing people who sit still. You’re not that good at it.”

 

“I’m plenty good at it,” Eichi sniffs, stiffening his shoulders on purpose to make _sure_ he stays still. “If you don’t think I’m pretty, you’re dumb.”

 

“Eichi! Eichi, where did you run off to?!”

 

“Shit,” Eichi hisses, diving to the side right into Keito’s futon. “I don’t wanna go home, I wanna stay here!”

 

Keito covers his mouth at the bad word. “You can’t say that in a shrine,” he whispers, eyes wide. “Isn’t that your mom?”

 

“I don’t care, I don’t wanna go!”

 

“I hear you in there, Eichi! _Honestly…”_

 

Keito’s bedroom door slides open, presenting a very annoyed looking Maria—though not a hair on her head is out of place—and her equally haggard attendant. “Come here,” she orders, snapping her fingers. “We’re going. Oh, hello, darling, my apologies for my son troubling you.”

 

Keito doesn’t need his grandfather’s stick to know it’s time to bow his head to this woman, in her very fine dress. “Sorry for being a disturbance,” he says softly, shivering a little in his seiza. “Um, and I’m sorry for taking up your son’s time,” he adds, when his first apology doesn’t seem to do much for the way his grandfather glowers.

 

Eichi growls like an unhappy cat where he hunkers down in the corner, and his mother heaves a long-suffering sigh before she stalks into the room, her heels clicking neatly across the floor. “That’s quite enough,” she hums, grabbing him by the wrist and hauling him up to his feet. “We’re going, it’s time for your lessons!”

 

That, of course, triggers a full-blown tantrum, and Tenshouin Maria simply scoops up her kicking and screaming son, holding him at her hip to avoid any flailing that might snag the diamonds dangling from her ears. “I’ll alert you if anything changes—thank you for your time, Hasumi-san.”

 

“It is my pleasure, Tenshouin-sama.” Keito has never seen his grandfather’s aged back bow quite so low. After the door shuts away his new friend, his grandfather rounds on him. “Foolish brat! Do you have any idea who that was you were talking to so casually?”

 

“Um…no?”

 

His grandfather is unimpressed, and ultimately gives him two almost-full buckets to hold outside, which make his arms wobble and ache. It is the first time Tenshouin Eichi gets him into trouble, but nowhere near the last.


	2. Chapter 2

Tenshouin Eichi knows exactly one (one!) other child around his age. There’s a limit to Hasumi Keito, however, and how much pleasant company he’s allowed to extend; he rarely is at any formal function that Eichi is dragged to when he’s capable of breathing without an oxygen tank, and that makes such things all the more unbearable. Eichi is _used_ to being wrapped into fancy clothes, shivering his way through dinner, and feeling like he’s run the length of the estate property by the time he’s been dragged around and introduced to his parents’ many, _many_ friends (investors), but the boredom that comes with it is unmatched.

 

And it really, _really_ puts him in a bad mood.

 

On the verge of a tantrum since being brought home from the hospital and forcibly dragged to an outing, Eichi sulks his way through greetings, preferring to huddle up behind his mother, clinging half-heartedly to her hand and contemplating his next move. Escaping sounds fun. Maybe if he throws himself out of a window, he’ll get that funeral he and Keito have been discussing for almost a year now…

 

He stops those morbid thoughts short, however, when something—some _one_ catches his eye. Tiny and pale and looking just as miserable about being here is an appealing mix, more or less, and Eichi takes advantage of his mother honestly not paying a single bit of attention to him to slink away, opting instead to pop up behind the other child’s chair. Sneaky, he thinks. “Hi. It’s boring here, wanna run away?”

 

Nervously, Shu adjusts the high collar his grandfather had buttoned him into, all the way up to the bottom of his chin. There’s never been another kid at one of his family dinners before—are they supposed to talk? Usually, Shu is simply told to go play with his dolls in the corner and make sure he doesn’t bother the adults. But if this person isn’t an adult…it might be okay?

 

He clears his throat, then offers a shy little bow, though it’s more awkward when he’s both sitting down and turning to the side. Hopefully, this new kid won’t make fun of him for it like the mean kids at his school totally would. “H-hi. You want to…go somewhere?” His voice is soft, but clipped, slightly accented, and very precise.

 

“Anywhere’s better than this,” Eichi lowly offers up, holding out his hand. He’s really _not_ supposed to touch other people, his mother has warned him about that, and certainly not other kids, but this one looks clean to kind of an astounding degree, so who cares? “Come on. If we hide well enough, no one’s gonna make us sit through dinner. The food sucks.”

 

Shu hesitates, but it doesn’t _look_ like this kid is going to make fun of him. He’s just as small, just as pale, and surely he couldn’t be a bully with a face so pretty it looks like a doll’s face, right?

 

He casts around a look, but his mother and grandfather are in busy conference with some strangers in business suits that Shu doesn’t know. Mother is doing her fake laugh—he hates hearing that. Resolutely, he takes the boy’s hand, and hops out of his chair, following along. “Is this your house? You’re pretty. My name’s Shu.” It’s not the kind of introduction his parents have coached him on, but he’s feeling seven years old and rather rebellious.

 

“It’s _one_ of our houses,” Eichi says with an exaggerated roll of his eyes, gripping Shu’s hand tightly (as tightly as he can, given his lack of strength entirely) in his success. If this were Keito, he’d take him up to his room immediately, but that’s not a proper hiding place. No, hiding requires something sneakier, and he casts a quick glance over his shoulder to make sure his parents aren’t watching him slink off down the hall. They aren’t, thankfully. “I’m Eichi. You think I’m pretty?” If he sounds skeptical, it’s definitely because his mother has only ever referred to _girls_ as being pretty.

 

“Mm,” Shu agrees instantly, following at the heels of this lovely boy, feeling his cheeks warm as he walks, hand tucked in Eichi’s. “You have the blue-black hair I really like, and your skin is so pale. Mine’s just _brown_ ,” he says in disgust, pushing his disappointing hair out of his eyes.

 

“You could just dye it later,” Eichi dismissively says, pausing at the end of a corridor when he hears the footsteps of servants. Annoying, the shouldn’t _be_ here—but fortunately, they’re too busy with guests, and slipping past them and into a separate ballroom is easy. “My mom dyes her hair blonde, and says she’ll make me match later if I don’t die. Mm, under here!”

 

He dives underneath a banquet table, pulling Shu with him, and makes sure to tug the tablecloth down lower on the side that faces the doors. “Once, I hid here for hours, and they thought I’d been kidnapped,” he proudly says. “It made alllll the servants freak out, and then they got punished for losing me. Their fault for being so annoying in the first place, though.”

 

Eichi just _does things_ , Shu realizes in utter awe. He doesn’t think about them for hours first, or fret about the consequences, or tremble with nerves when it’s time to make a decision. Shu stares at his face, trying to imagine what that would even be like, and comes up completely empty. He arranges himself in sloppy, though not awful seiza under the table, and lowers his voice. “If I had a place like this in my house, I’d make it a huge house for my dolls,” he confides. “This is like…heaven.”

 

“You have dolls? Even though you’re a boy?” Eichi says with a curious tilt of his head, sitting cross-legged and entirely uncaring about how improper it is. No one is here to yell at him, and he’s going to die, so who cares? “My grandfather would haaate that. That’s cool, though. Your parents don’t yell at you about it?”

 

“My parents gave me some of them,” Shu tells him. “But I usually have to wait for my birthday or New Year’s to get more, and mostly it’s from my Great-Aunt. Everyone says she’s crazy, but they don’t say it very loud, because she’s got a lot of money.”

 

“Oooh. Sounds like my grandfather. My dad calls him a son of a bitch, which my mom hates,” Eichi says with a roll of his eyes. “But whatever. They keep saying he’s gonna die soon, too. This is his house, technically, but it’s gonna be mine when he dies. Isn’t that cool?” Eichi leans in, beaming. “If you’re my friend, I’ll give you a place even better than this for your dolls. Ah, but I might die before then, so don’t get _too_ excited.”

 

Shu’s eyes widen nonetheless, and he reaches out and grabs Eichi’s hands, holding them tightly, his eyes shining. “You’re wonderful!” he enthuses, knowing almost nothing about the other child except that he likes to hide under tables and hates his grandfather. “Why are you gonna die?”

 

“Dunno. Sometimes, I can’t breathe and everyone thinks I’ll just stop one day,” Eichi cheerfully says, giving Shu’s hands a squeeze. “But you know—if I don’t, you get a hiding place and somewhere for you dolls, so that’s okay, right?”

 

“Eichi! Eichi, where are you?”

 

“If we just stay here, they’ll never find us,” Eichi lowly whispers, grabbing Shu closer to huddle up and remain stark still. “Then maybe we can _really_ run away.”

 

Shu’s eyes go wide, and he falls silent, hands still on Eichi’s, holding utterly still as much as possible until the footsteps fade again. Finally, he whispers, “I read a book where the main characters ran away and lived in an art museum. It sounded really good, we should do that. I read the whole book, so I know how.”

 

“My family owns an art museum, so I bet I could get us there,” Eichi whispers back, already trying to think through the _best_ way to make that happen. “If I’m reeeally nice to one of the drivers…he _might_ not tell. Unless I can use Keito’s horse to get there instead. Hmm.”

 

“I’ve never ridden a horse…but I bet I could figure it out.” Shu sticks his chest out a little. “I’m pretty fast at learning things. I get the best grades in my academy.” Despite trying to put his best foot forward, there’s a slight flinch, as if he expects to have mud thrown in his face.

 

“You get to go to school?” Eichi has learned that’s an odd question, and one that’s made Keito roll his eyes when he first asked it, but he presses on anyway. “I mean—not that I don’t, I’m just…absent all the time, so it’s makeup classes, and then teachers coming to the hospital instead, which isn’t really the same…” he laments, hiseyes sparkling as they lock on Shu. “Tell me about it, tell me about it, do you go to a private academy, too? Or a commoner one? I always wanted to go to a commoner one.”

 

“It’s a commoner one,” Shu says after a moment, thinking it over. “I think? I didn’t need to take a test or anything…so it’s probably not too fancy, not like this party…” He leans forward, curious. “What’s it like, being sick all the time? In the movies it’s very sweet.”

 

Eichi makes a face. “It’s _no_ fun,” he grumpily says. “I don’t get to do anything. My medicine makes me bad at sleeping. IVs hurt and _itch_ and hospital food is really gross. When I _do_ get to leave the hospital, it’s just catching up on school, which is kinda boring and just hard when it’s not boring. The only fun thing is planning my funeral, but that’s just because of my friend Keito.”

 

That doesn’t sound right. Shu frowns, trying to puzzle that over, and leans back, brow furrowed. “People should be more like dolls,” he says finally. “They’re all pale and pretty and they don’t need to go to the hospital, I can fix them myself.”

 

“I wish I could get fixed like that,” Eichi wistfully says. “But I guess that’s what dying is. But before then, I wish I could be, you know, not sick? For at least a little. I wanna go to a school for singing, not stupid _math_ , and eat a lot of cake…”

 

“A school for singing?” Shu considers that, blinking slowly. “Is there really a school like that? I like to sing…I bet the other kids at school would make fun of me even more, though.” He seems to shrink in on himself at that.

 

“It’s _totally_ a thing,” Eichi insists, scooting closer and grabbing for one of Shu’s hands. “My mom wanted to be a singer. She knows loooots of other people that are, and people that are actors and stuff, too, like in movies! I’m good at it, too. You should just tell them to shut up if they make fun of you for it, people are dumb.”

 

Shu’s smile wavers, and he sits back out of seiza, pulling his hand back and wrapping his arms around his knees. There’s a sort of shiver that works through him sometimes, something that makes him feel sick and scared all at the same time, and it grabs him now, making him gulp for air. “They’re…really mean,” he says softly. “They rip my clothes and throw mud at me.”

 

“ _Why?_ ” Eichi’s brow furrows, and he rocks forward after Shu. “You don’t look weird or anything. Don’t you have a butler or something that’ll stop them?”

 

Shu shakes his head. “We had to let the butler go…I guess you have to give them money if you want them to work or something?”

 

“That’s dumb. Well, whatever,” Eichi sniffs. “ _Someone_ should tell them to stop if you can’t. I get teased because I’m sick and stuff, and Keito yells at them for me.”

 

“That sounds nice,” Shu says wistfully. “It’s not…that bad, when it’s me…” It is, but maybe his mother is right, and saying that will make it feel more true. “But they break my dolls. That’s…unforgiveable!”

 

“That’s really mean,” Eichi grumpily says. “Next time, you should put an explosive or something near by and push them into it, that’ll teach th—“

 

He’s cut off with a startled squeak when a firm hand reaches underneath the table, snatching him back by the wrist and hauling him out. His butler, harried and frustrated, keeps him in a vice grip, obviously afraid Eichi will bolt again, and opens his mouth to scold him—but Shu’s mother cuts him off from the other side of the table by hauling Shu out as well. “ _This_ is where you’ve been? Associating with _this_ brat?”

 

Shu lets out a yelp, but doesn’t protest his mother’s grip, letting himself be dragged and positioned. “I—he’s really nice,” he protests, but bows his head, knowing better than to argue in public. “I’m sorry.”

 

“And you—you just wait until your grandfather hears that you’ve been associating with the riff raff,” Eichi’s butler says with a sniff, casting Shu’s mother a gimlet eye.

 

“ _You’re_ the riff raff!” comes Eichi’s petulant retort, slapping uselessly at his butler’s arm. “He’s nice, _I_ like him, screw what my grandfather says!”

 

“Do you hear that?” Shu’s mother hisses in-between straightening Shu’s clothes and already dragging him away. “So rude! If you associate with a boy like that, you’ll be as rude as him, and I won’t have it!”

 

 _But he was nice,_ Shu wants to say, following silently at her side. _Not like the mean kids you keep telling me to play with._

 

He casts a look back at Eichi, still quarrelling with his butler, and sighs. If one wants nice things, his great-aunt’s voice says in his mind, one must take good care of them. That butler is doing a bad job.

 


	3. Chapter 3

 

“Eichi wants to talk to you in the rose garden.”

 

The last person Shu wants to talk to, currently, is attempting to talk to him. Shu purses his lips together, folding his arms self-consciously over his chest. Slowly, he turns, coming face to face with Hasumi Keito, someone he recognizes in passing more than from close association. Mostly, he recognizes that scowling face from youth arts competitions, usually coming in second, third, or however far down the prizes go—Shu doesn’t really pay attention once he’s taken first place in the writing, craftsmanship, and songwriting genres. What he does remember is what a sore loser the other boy is, which is reason enough to avoid him.

 

Carefully, he avoids reaching up to fuss with his newly-short, newly-pink hair. Fussing over himself isn’t very elegant. “What does he want with me, hmm?”

 

Keito snorts. “I’m not here to do his dirty work,” he lies, stuffing his hands into his pockets. “But you probably shouldn’t go. Hell, he’s probably just going to shove you into the mud when you’re not looking.”

 

Shu stiffens, and lifts his chin. No, he won’t cry, he won’t panic. Eichi can’t do anything if he doesn’t go into the rose garden, right? Shoulders tight, he turns and stalks away, resolving to hide in the library for the rest of this stupid, horrible party.

 

For his part, Tenshouin Eichi waits for a solid, long, _fifteen minutes_ before giving up and sulkily dragging himself back inside.

 

It’s cold out, and being in the rose garden isn’t exactly great for lungs that still feel crackly and stuffy after his last hospital stint. So, unhappily, he sneaks his way back into the house, avoiding the party and anyone that might want to talk to him, dragging his _stupid_ oxygen tank behind him to hide out in the library instead.

 

**To: Keito**

**Subject: >(**

**you told me you were gonna convince him. you suck i’m mad at you**

 

Text messages are useless to berate Keito—he can barely use his damned phone!—but it makes Eichi feel somewhat better. Moodily, he slams the library door behind himself and then freezes, stopping dead at the sight of Itsuki Shu, with that new head of pink hair that’s so surprisingly flattering. Hurriedly, he yanks the cannula out of his nose, tossing tubing aside and convincingly pretending like it had never existed. “Hi!” Eichi brightly greets, combing his platinum hair out of his face with a beaming smile as he steps closer. “Itsuki-kun—was it? It’s been so long!”

 

With a tide of sudden dismay, Shu realizes that Eichi has grown as much as he has, in some ways—and that he’s grown very _pretty_. Years of listening to his parents griping about the callous, vulgar, evil Tenshouin house do little to remind Shu why he shouldn’t want to run his fingers through that lovely platinum hair—how does he get it so clean and cool?—and pet that porcelain skin, checking to make sure that each lovely muscle and fiber is in place.

 

No, no. He’s older now, he knows more things now. It won’t do to say things like how much he’d love to— “You look like a doll, Tenshouin,” he says suddenly, and one of his hands suddenly clenches, as if he’s stroking something quite fragile. “Ah, because you’re so pale, of course. Are you ill even now?” He has to start practicing his bravado at some point, if high school is going to be any better than middle school, which is excessively dreadful. In high school, no one will know who he is. No one will have any pesky preconceived notions that it’s fine to bully the Itsuki kid, because he’s strange and frilly and doesn’t fight back.

 

“That’s not important,” Eichi says, hoping that he doesn’t sound as out of breath as he feels when he leans in, eyes sparkling. It’s an impossibly rare day that he actually gets to speak to Itsuki Shu instead of merely hear about him. The Itsuki family, his grandfather has told him, is _not_ worth his time. They’re poor, long-fallen nobility that no longer can garner a bit of fame or a sliver of attention, but one look at Shu says otherwise, if Eichi’s opinion means anything. And it does, he thinks, because Shu is _very_ handsome, in a beautiful, delicate sort of way, and as tall as Keito, if not slightly taller. “That color hair looks nice on you. Your school lets you get away with that? Or maybe they don’t care, because you’re so talented? Keito tells me all about it, I’m jealous I don’t get to see for myself.”

 

“That guy doesn’t know anything,” Shu says sharply, when Eichi gets much closer than he feels suddenly comfortable with. He shifts back, trying not to smell that rather elegant, intriguing perfume, feeling spots of color rise in his cheeks. “He’s a bad writer. You shouldn’t be friends with him, I’m—I’m much better,” he finishes lamely, hating how much it matters to him that Eichi knows that.

 

“Oh? Ah, right, right, you win everything, it makes him so upset!” Eichi laughs, clasping his hands behind his back as he bats long, dark eyelashes up at Shu. “You’re not going to any normal school when you graduate, ri~ght? It would be a total waste. Itsuki-kun, you got handsome, you know.”

 

Unfortunately, it seems as if his blush isn’t going to fade any time soon, and Shu swallows hard. Those lashes are entirely unfair, like one of the Narco products he’d love to put onto one of his favorite dolls. “I—I’m going to Yumenosaki,” he blurts out. “I understand most people apply, but I was scouted!”

 

Eichi’s eyes widen, and a hand swings out, immediately, thoughtlessly grabbing for one of Shu’s hands to excitedly squeeze. “Really?! My family invests there! I wanna go sooo badly, but I missed auditions because I was in the hospital,” he grumpily says. “Are you going in the idol course? Of course you are, _look_ at you. Ahh, I’m so jealous…”

 

“S-stop!”

 

Shu yanks his hand away, face hot, trying to will his thundering heart to calm down. His hands twine together, and he firms his chin, though he’s unable to stop his hand from darting out, one finger stroking down the back of Eichi’s pale left hand. “Of course they should let you in, if you have skin like this. You’ll just have to come to one of my concerts, and bask in the beauty that is the unit I’m putting together!”

 

“What did Keito tell you, before?” Eichi abruptly asks, remaining as still as he possibly can, no matter how he wants to reach out and grab Shu again. Shu’s touching him on his own accord, so that’s a start. “I invited you to the rose garden.”

 

“Why would I want to do something like that?” Shu asks sharply, hoping it doesn’t show on his face just how much he would truly love to go to a rose garden, let alone how much he’d love to go to one with someone this lovely. For a moment, he lets himself imagine what it would be like, if he did go with Eichi, if they held hands, if Eichi snuck a kiss behind a rose bush. No, no, Eichi wouldn’t do something like that. Like Hasumi had said, he’d probably take the chance to push Shu into the mud. “Your family doesn’t want you associating with me.” If only that didn’t sound like such a forbidden romance.

 

“Umm…so? I don’t care what they think.” Eichi’s lips purse into a deep pout. “That makes it better, anyway. If you don’t wanna go see the garden, we can keep being all secretive in here, but libraries aren’t sexy _or_ romantic.”

 

Unfortunately, Eichi is essentially Shu’s ideal romance, which is just unfair. A forbidden romance in a rose garden? That moves to a library? Whose families hate the idea? Between two budding idols, one of whom is tiny and pretty and perfect and—

 

Shu’s mouth wavers, and he finally sits down, tugging Eichi down next to him. “If we’re down here,” he explains, eyes large and intent, “no one can see us. Not like last time.” He shouldn’t be doing this—but isn’t that the point of it being forbidden?

 

Eichi beams happily, pout immediately disappearing when he’s rewarded with _exactly_ what he wants. He flops down immediately, his fingers clinging to Shu’s as he leans close. “Even if my family finds out, they can’t do _anything_ ,” he smugly says. “My grandfather’s gonna die soon, everyone says so. I’ll be in charge. Then we can—“

 

It belatedly occurs to him that they are talking about things being romantic or not _very_ openly, and they are both very much boys. It feels…easy, and far more natural than he’d like, but Shu doesn’t seem to mind, so maybe if he plays it cool, Shu won’t remark on it. “Then we can…do whatever we want,” he finishes lamely.

 

Shu rather doubts that Eichi wants to do the kind of things that he’s currently thinking of, the kinds of things he’s been dreaming about for a little over a year. But that’s what makes him different from other boys, and Shu expects that by now. “We can do lots of things,” he agrees, though he knows he shouldn’t. “Ah, I want to hear you sing, can you imagine if we became a unit together? That’s what they call it when two people sing together at Yumenosaki. I think they can be bigger, but why make it more than me and my greatest creation?”

 

“Ahh, can we, can we? I’m _good_ , I swear,” Eichi insists, scooting closer. If this had gone according to his original plan, he could have been secretly kissing Itsuki Shu in a rose garden by now, but now it’s not quite right and he’s annoyed about that. At least Shu seems fairly content to hold his hand. “I wanna go sooo bad, but I’m gonna have to go somewhere else…another idol school, definitely, no matter what my grandfather says,” he adds with a roll of his eyes. “The entertainment world is just as much a viable business opportunity as anything. Old people are so dumb.”

 

Shu cocks his head, and clears his throat a little, trying to distract Eichi from the fact that they’re holding hands, because it feels entirely…nice. “Are you going to buy a school?” he asks, a little confused. “What business opportunity?”

 

“Maybe, if that’s what makes sense. But the whole idol industry—all of it’s so _interesting_ , you know?” Eichi’s eyes glitter as he leans closer, clinging to Shu’s hand. “Investing in that as an art form, helping those that truly _love_ being idols by giving them what they need to succeed—that’s what it’s all about, right? Not just pretty faces coasting by. That’s not going to make anyone happy! No, the masses deserve _real_ entertainment, something they can really appreciate, and I—“ He pauses, then snaps his mouth shut, sitting back and looking vaguely embarrassed. “Sorry. I’ve had to give this speech to my parents and grandfather so many times, it just comes out.”

 

Shu’s eyes glaze over slightly, but not in boredom. “You shine so brightly when you talk like that,” he breathes. “I want to—“

 

_To make all of your wild dreams come true._

 

His lips purse, and he changes his tune mid-sentence. “I want to make a unit that’s truly worthy of being called idols. Something so incredible that the people who see any performance will leave saying, “Oh, I can’t talk to anyone for a while, I just want to sit in a dark room and think for a while because my mind is different than it was before I went in there!””

 

“That’s good, that’s good! Just like that! Ahhh, even if I can’t go and _be_ an idol, I still want to be in the industry, you know?” Eichi wistfully says, tilting his head to the side with a little sigh. “I’ll _totally_ be dead before I’m even in high school, but…it’s still a nice dream. Mm, a really nice one. You’re the only person that doesn’t just laugh when I talk about this kind of thing, thank you.”

 

“I don’t laugh very much,” Shu says quietly. He squeezes Eichi’s hand, and turns to look at his face, really look. “You’re about the same amount of pale as last time I saw you…are you any sicker? High school is pretty close, you know.”

 

“The hair makes me look way less like I’m dying, because then it just looks like I’m super fair-skinned,” Eichi cheerfully says. “Jonathan’s gonna kill me, probably, but I keep getting these fancy heart problems, so if he doesn’t, that will. Keito’s decided I’m also not allowed to mix my ashes with tea and serve it at my funeral, what a jerk.”

 

That makes Shu gag a bit, and he finally turns away, covering his mouth with his hand. “Ugh, why would you want to do something like that? That’s so disgusting. And—wait, who’s Jonathan, why’s he trying to kill you?”

 

“Oh, sorry, that’s the name we gave my significantly smaller lung. And it’s a joke, it’s a joke!” No one ever thinks the tea idea is good. Oh well. “Anyway, it’s unlikely I’ll ever get to stand on a stage, but—if I keep talking about it, maybe it’ll happen.”

 

Shu shrugs. “If it’s you, I think you can do anything,” he says simply.

 

Eichi’s mouth falls open, and he swallows audibly. “Oh.” For a heated, impulsive moment, nothing _really_ matters—except that Itsuki Shu said _that_ , and also, that his mouth is very pretty and that’s…hmm. Is he brave enough? _Well, no one’s here to stop me._

 

So, logically, grabbing Shu’s hand so he can’t skitter away when Eichi leans forward and steals a kiss straight from his mouth is the only thing that can be done. “Then you can look forward to what I’ll do next, Itsuki-kun.” _Smooth! Yes! Yes, I_ nailed _that line, I’m soo cool!_

 

Shu’s mind blanks out to the point that he lets out nothing but a squeak. His face turns white, and his hand flies to his cheek, making sure he’s still himself, that the world is still upright. Very, very softly, he asks, “You, too?”

 

It’s not _precisely_ the reaction that Eichi expects, but it’s not altogether bad. But he’s not having the steamy, sexy makeout of his dreams, and that’s somewhat disappointing, so Eichi sighs, pouting a little as he leans back. Maybe Keito was right. Maybe Shu _is_ a prude. “It’s not like it’s a big deal,” he dismissively says, trying his hardest to be cool about this. “But, you know. Don’t tell anyone.”

 

“O-of course,” Shu whispers, and then scoots a little closer, eyes sparkling as he swallows around his nerves. “I’m good at keeping secrets, I keep a lot of them. Ah…you know you’re as beautiful as a young god, right?”

 

That’s better. Eichi beams, basking in the praise, and his fingers wiggle deliberately within Shu’s hold. “You can keep telling me. Mm, and I’ll return the favor—Itsuki-kun’s s~o handsome, in like, a really pretty way. Like girls, but better.”

 

“Girls are the ideal,” Shu says, nodding thoughtfully. “I like it when boys are as pretty as girls, that’s my favorite. You’re as pretty as a doll, that’s the best thing. I wish I could make you new lungs out of fine linen.”

 

“I wish I was taller, though! Everyone else my age is taller than me, it’s the wooorst,” Eichi whines, thumping a hand against the floor. “Make me new lungs. I’ll put them to good use, I’m not a quitter. If I say I’m going to do something, I’m going to do it, and I’m _gonna_ be a top idol even if I die trying.”

 

Shu nods firmly, as if he’s had something confirmed for him. “Good. Then stop acting like you aren’t going to Yumenosaki and instead say, ‘See you there!’ And then we can be in a unit. And we’ll be the top of everything.”

 

 _But I’ve already missed auditions, I’m probably not even good enough, I’m definitely not on your level, I’m seriously dying you don’t know the half of it—_ all of the little lingering worries stick to his tongue, and Eichi hesitates for a moment before just nodding. Keito’s going to hate him for this. Oh well. “Right. Okay. Then I’ll see you there,” he softly says, wishing his heart would stop pounding oddly. It does enough of that without Itsuki Shu.

 

Shu smiles. He doesn’t usually do that anymore, but this occasion warrants it. “Good. Then when I start a unit, make sure you—“

 

His phone starts beeping insistently, with a very familiar ringtone, and his heart sinks. “My grandfather,” he says with a sigh. “I have to go, it’s later than I thought. If they find me here…” A forbidden romance is all well and good in theory, but if his grandfather hears about this, he’ll really be in not-fun trouble.

 

Eichi resumes his pouting. “Fiiine, I _guess_.” Knowing that he won’t be seeing Shu again any time soon—certainly not at any party unattended, or at any other functions where he himself isn’t flanked by too many attendants to try and start even a single conversation—makes him bold, and Eichi gives into the urge to grab Shu by his lapels, pulling him forward, and kissing him again soundly. “Then, until we meet again,” he hums, releasing Shu. He’s pink-faced and a little out of breath, and if he blames that on being ill and not his fluttery nerves, that’s better. “Or something.”

 

With that, he makes a quick escape, hurriedly snatching up his oxygen tank and skittering out of the door.

 


	4. Chapter 4

 

Eichi, discharged from the hospital two weeks shy of his fourteenth birthday, makes a logical choice. Instead of going home to rest with servants that will wait on him hand and foot, he insists upon going to Keito’s—and thus, one tantrum later, gets his wish, ending up outside of Keito’s bedroom door.

 

Once properly within the shrine, out of sight of his attendants, out of mind as well, Eichi yanks out the oxygen cannula from his nose, and hides it, as well as that annoying portable tank, away from Keito’s door. “Kei~to,” he sing-songs, plastering himself up against the door. “Let me in! I’m free, let’s celebrate!”

 

The door opens after a long pause, and Keito stands there, looking far ganglier, more awkward, and taller than he had when Eichi had gone into the hospital. His eyes are red, enough that he rubs at them, gone wide when he takes in the sight of Eichi. “You’re out?” he asks dumbly, trying to banish the sight of Eichi, lying pale and shaking on a hospital bed. Seeing him here, vibrant and _alive_ , is enough to make him rush forward, grabbing him in a crushing hug. “Yeah, let’s party!”

 

Eichi wheezes, clinging to Keito’s back as he’s picked up and off of his feet from the force of that hug. “Was I really in for that long?” he laughs, content to dangle there for a moment, soaking in how warm and pleasantly solid Keito is. “You’re sooo tall, why? I wanna be tall.”

 

“You were in _way_ too long,” Keito reprimands, pulling back to tousle Eichi’s hair firmly. “Don’t do it again, or I’ll get taller again. And you’re already short.”

 

Eichi rolls his eyes, smacking at Keito’s hands. “Whatever, I’ll be taller than you in high school. Speaking of which,” he wheedles, sidling his way past Keito and into his room. He throws himself down onto the unfolded futon, making himself at home. “We need to talk plans. Oh, but first, can I tell you about this _wild_ new medicine trial they had me on? I haven’t been able to talk to anyone in like, two months, I’ve been going insane, there’s so _much_ to talk about.”

 

Keito casts a quick glance around, but he’d been careful, and nothing incriminating is sticking out. As long as Eichi doesn’t infiltrate his special sketchbooks, nothing bad should happen. “Plans? For what, your funeral? Has that much changed over that time?”

 

“Noo, pay attention, plans for _high school_ ,” Eichi sighs, flopping down onto his back. It feels good to be _flat_ , and he’s going to stay that way if he can help it. “We have to go to the same one, I’ll die if we don’t.”

 

“Eh?” Keito blinks. “Why would you die for something like that? We see each other after school, right?” A bloom of warmth snakes through his belly. _Eichi…cares about me that much? Wants to be around me that much?_

 

“Don’t be an idiot.” Eichi rolls onto his side, propping his chin in one hand as he blows a strand of platinum blonde hair out of his face. His roots need a _serious_ touch-up, but only Keito is allowed to know about that. “I want to go to Yumenosaki Academy. Come with me, it’ll be fun.”

 

Keito sputters, startled away from words. “To—Yumenosaki? The singing, dancing place? Ah, they have a producer course or something, right? You want me to run things from behind the scenes?”

 

“Forget that. You play a few different instruments, you can sing, you can dance—you should audition with me, it’ll be fuuuun!” Eichi pouts over at him. “I’m going to convince my grandfather to invest in it. We’ll run the whooole school, doesn’t that sound awesome?”

 

Slowly, Keito chews on his bottom lip, brows furrowed. “I don’t know about that,” he warns. “There’s a guy in my school that’s going there, he might be kinda hard to beat. And I really don’t think I’m that good a singer…not compared to you.”

 

“You’re good _enough_.” Eichi ignores the annoyed flutter of jealousy, and reaches out, grabbing Keito’s wrist to drag him over onto the futon. “I don’t care about other guys at your school,” he bluntly says. “I’m sick and tired of not having my best friend at school with me—you know, for the few days a month I _can_ go. Please, Keito?”

 

“…All right.”

 

Is it as much thought as he should put into a decision so important? Probably not, but Eichi looks so determined, and honestly, it’s nice to be wanted, with Eichi’s hands on his skinny wrists. “I’ll ask my parents tomorrow, but if I tell them it’s to keep an eye on you, I’m sure they’ll say yes.”

 

“Yay!”

 

Eichi immediately throws his arms around Keito’s neck, beaming as he squeezes him in a tight hug. “It’ll be fun!” he insists again, his face flushed with the exertion of just rolling around and hugging Keito. “I’ve got _ideas_. My parents don’t get to argue, I already submitted applications for us, I knew you’d say yes. Oh, heh, can I tell you something really funny now?”

 

“S-sure,” Keito manages, trying not to sound like he’s getting an erection from the hug. Hopefully, he’s doing a pretty good job.

 

“So those new meds they put me on? Every time I sneeze, I have an orgasm. I mean, it’s funny, but I’m also going insane.”

 

Keito freezes exactly where he is, his dick suddenly so hard against the fabric of his yukata that he feels dizzy. “Um,” he says, trying very, very hard to sound normal, “weird.”

 

 _“Right?_ I’m gonna die,” Eichi bemoans, hooking his chin over Keito’s shoulder. “I’ve never been so horny in my life. I guess that’s a good thing, in a way? It means I’m alive, but at the same time, I’m just sooo worn out from it…”

 

“I—honestly, what am I supposed to say to something like that?” Keito demands, pushing Eichi away from him, shifting in his seat to arrange his legs in a way that don’t show anything. “Don’t hold me while you say things like that!”

 

“At least ask me if they’re good orgasms! They aren’t, by the way,” Eichi sniffs, pouting. A part of him is _extremely_ annoyed at being pushed away by _Keito_ , of all people, and that just makes him more aggressive about it, lurching forward to latch onto Keito again. “You didn’t even ask me if a nurse kissed me for real this time.”

 

Keito gives up on pushing Eichi away, rolling his eyes and twisting a little, trying to get into a position where at least it won’t be so obvious what he’s concealing. “What’s the point if you’re just going to lie about it again?”

  


“Rude. I thought you liked it when I made up stories about it, but I  _guess_  you just don’t care anymore.” Eichi’s eyes narrow, and he leans back to get a better look at Keito’s face. “Did you get a girlfriend while I was in the hospital?” 

  


Keito snorts so hard it hurts the back of his nose. “Ow. No. When would I have the time? Entrance exams are coming up…but I guess you don’t care about those anymore, if we’re just going to sing and dance instead of working hard.”

  


“Woooow. You don’t think idols work hard? I practice a  _lot_ , you know! You’re just being a jerk and not telling me things. I bet you got a  _boyfriend_  and didn’t tell me.” 

  


Keito yanks back then, and slaps Eichi’s shoulder, harder than he’d intended. “Don’t say things like that.”

  


“Oww, you hit hard when you want to,” Eichi complains, shrinking back with a deepening pout. “I’ll say whatever I want, thanks, don’t be so weird about it.”  _It’s just a joke_  he wants to say, but that’s giving Keito too much of an out when it would be  _nice_  to be able to bring this up without such a violent reaction. 

  


“You’re not funny,” Keito mutters, though Eichi hadn’t precisely said it was a joke. That’s implied by now, he thinks, because they can’t all be kissing nurses. “Quit making fun of me. Tell me about the nurse thing, go on.” Because if there’s one thing that can usually distract Eichi, it’s the opportunity to talk about himself.

  


“But I’m not making fun of you. No, forget it, I don’t want to talk about nurses now,” Eichi grumbles, throwing himself back down across Keito’s futon in a huff. “None of them are even that pretty and they just feel sorry for me, anyway, so where’s the fun in that?” 

  


“You usually find fun in the weirdest places.” Even now, Keito isn’t really sure if that’s a compliment or an insult. Hesitantly, he reaches out a hand to touch Eichi’s hair, the way he used to do, but…

  


But if Eichi is asking questions like that now, all that’s over, isn’t it?

  


He retracts his hand, then grabs his sketchbook, cheeks hot. “So, Yumenosaki? Don’t I have to be able to play an instrument or something?”

  


“Not really. But you play shamisen, and that’s cool, so they’ll want you. Also, you’re…” No, compliments are a reward for people that touch his hair and tell him he’s fun. “You’re being  _so_  weird,” Eichi bluntly says, changing courses rapidly. “Stop acting like you don’t want to touch me, do I smell like hospital or something? You haven’t even shown me the stuff you’ve been drawing recently.” 

  


“Here,” Keito says hurriedly, shoving the sketchbook into Eichi’s hands. His heart thumps oddly, floppily, in that funny way it does in the mornings when he wakes up with what he swears is the taste of Eichi’s neck on his lips. It’s weird, it’s  _weird_ , and Eichi doesn’t need to know about it. 

  


A second too late, he sees that the jacket on the book is dark green, not dark blue, and he grabs for it, muttering, “Wait,  _wait_ , not that one!”

  


“Nope, you’ve already surrendered it, it’s mine now!” 

  


Eichi twists away from Keito’s grabbing with surprising speed, backing himself into the corner of futon that touches two walls. “Is this your super secret pervert collection or something?” he teases, flipping through it rapidly before Keito can snatch it away. “It’s not like I don’t  _know_  you like shibari, Keito, you don’t have to be so weird about—“ 

  


It’s not exactly shibari that he flips to, but instead, at least a dozen sketches (sometimes per page) of what is  _absolutely_  him, more often than not in various stages of undress and…different positions. Eichi’s mouth snaps shut for a moment, and he flips through more slowly. “Oh.” That sure is his pulse doing weird things, and he shifts a little to keep his legs closed. “So Keito thinks I’m sexy, huh?” 

  


That floppy heartbeat suddenly stops, and it feels like Keito’s heart sinks down to the floor, slithering around his shoes. He draws his knees up to his chin, says a prayer to the Buddha, and decides not to run away. If he’s going to be living his worst nightmare, he might as well be all in. “I, uh. I love you. This is a confession, I guess. Sorry.”

  


“Oh.” Eichi pauses, flipping that over in his mind, and unfortunately, what he blurts out instead of anything else is, “And you  _still_  act like talking about boys with me is a joke? You’re the worst, a total jerk, leading me on to think you were only into girls!” 

  


“W-what?” Keito’s eyes snap wide, and he turns to stare at Eichi. His stomach feels as if it’s about to revolt, but he pushes that feeling away as much as he can, eyes transfixed. “You—I’m not leading you on, I’m concealing my shame! Like you’re supposed to!”

  


“Yeah, in  _public_ ,” Eichi says with a roll of his eyes, snapping the sketchbook closed and holding it over his lap. It’s safer that way, honestly. “In private, you can do whatever you want. Duh.” 

  


“I—I’m pretty sure that’s not how it works! This isn’t very Japanese of you!”

  


“You’re the one that’s super Japanese, not me. There’s European in there somewhere.” Eichi beams. “And you, apparently, like that. Kei~to, if you like me, at least do something about it. Make out with me.” 

  


Very deliberately, Keito reaches down and pinches his own arm, hard, with fingernails out. “Ow…not a dream, huh?” he asks, rubbing the sore area. Then what Eichi has said truly sinks in, and he scoots forward, eyes alight and hopeful. “You…you like me, too?”

  


“Um…obviously? I came here when I got out of the hospital instead of my  _extremely_  comfortable bed, that should tell you everything.” It’s better if he doesn’t touch on the idea of being  _in love_  with Keito right now. ‘Love’ is a tricky concept, one that Eichi is fairly certain he’s bad at understanding, because of course he  _loves_  Keito, but…he’s still been led to believe that being ‘in love’ is a different thing, and that just makes his head hurt. “I’m annoyed you didn’t say anything sooner,” Eichi sniffs, delicately setting the sketchbook aside. Maybe Keito will not comment on his erection. It’s unimportant. “We could have been kissing awhile ago. Before I die, I have to at least kiss one guy and one girl, to see what’s better.” 

  


“Uh huh…” Keito isn’t sure that’s how it works—he’s pretty sure you just wake up someday and know which one you like, the way he did—but that’s not important. What’s important is that Eichi is looking at him the way he thinks about looking at Eichi, and he reaches out a trembling, eager hand, squeezing one of Eichi’s cool ones. “You already did it with a girl, right?”

  


“Yeah, and it was all right.” Eichi leans forward eagerly, grabbing at Keito’s hand with his own. “But kissing boys has always been a  _lot_  more interesting sounding, you know?” he breathes, his eyes alight. “Girls are a little too soft.” 

  


“ _Exactly_.” Keito beams, thrilled that Eichi  _gets it_  when he’d never thought he would, and threads his fingers through Eichi’s, marveling at how cool the skin is, how much he likes touching it. That thumping is back, and he’s scared, but at least if something bad happens, they’re close enough together that it’ll take both of them out. 

  


Hesitantly, he leans in, and asks softly, “This isn’t a trick, right?”

  


Eichi heaves a sigh, and instead of answering, just grabs Keito by the front of his yukata, yanks him closer, and kisses him. 

  


This is most  _certainly_  already better than kissing a girl. Girls, again, are too soft, too yielding, in a way, and Keito is much stiffer and sharper and harder to push and pull around. Also—not for nothing, but kissing girls has never made a shaky little thrill go down his spine like this does, and Eichi shifts, contemplating the level of shame he should have before giving up, letting his legs fall open, and pulling Keito between them as he kisses him again. 

  


Keito’s mind fizzles blank, the way it does when something really stressful happens, then abruptly snaps back, eyes flying open as he’s yanked down. It makes him shudder, feels good, and he leans in, meeting Eichi’s mouth with his own until—

  


He pulls back, startled, hands going to block the front of his pants. “Your—I touched it, sorry, it was—“

  


“Isn’t that the point?” Eichi sighs, giddily tipping backwards until he’s flat on his back. “I mean, you don’t  _have_  to, I just wanna make out. But I don’t care if you touch it or whatever, it’s not like I can’t feel yours, too. Don’t pull away, you think I’m  _so_  cute.” 

  


“I—“ Eichi’s right, of course. Keito  _does_  think he’s so cute. His stomach feels hot, and he shifts forward, carefully arranging himself next to Eichi, shooting a look at the rice paper door. “If Hiroto comes in, we’re gonna get in a lot of trouble,” he warns. “They might tell your mom.”

  


“So?” It’s said petulantly, quite rebelliously, but that does make him nervous, in a vague sort of way. “I don’t know what they’d do,” Eichi admits, running a finger idly over the jut of Keito’s collarbone. “Maybe not even anything, because it’s you and you’re a ‘good influence.’ Ahhh, who  _cares_ , I’m dying, I should be able to do what I want.” 

  


“That’s all fine for  _you_ ,” Keito hisses, though he doens’t pull away. If anything, he takes the permission to reach out himself, curling a finger around a strand of hair, twisting it idly the way he’d always liked to, when they were kids. “ _My_  parents have another heir, I’ll probably die.”

  


“No, I like you the best. They’ll keep you alive because they want my business.” Eichi smiles, batting his eyelashes before he turns his head and simply licks Keito’s palm. “Good enough, right?” 

  


It’s probably not good enough, but Keito doesn’t always make the best choices when Eichi is around, and he’s come to accept that. Hopefully, his parents won’t kill him for asking to go to idol school, and  _then_  they can tackle the issue that he’s never going to get married another time. 

  


He grabs Eichi by the collar, gently dragging him close, surprised at how much more strength it takes to do that than he’d thought. It looks like an easy thing in the manga and movies, but it still feels worth it, in the way Eichi’s mouth moves against his, and the way he doesn’t flinch when Keito lays an exploratory hand on his hip, feeling very daring and perverted.

  


That’s much nicer than anticipated, even if Keito is still being  _so_  careful. Eichi has always thought it would be very exciting if someone tossed him around, but—this is a nice start, and when he’s fresh out of a hospital bed, this is probably the wiser choice. 

  


Eichi’s breath stutters a bit in his chest, and his hands slide around to grab at Keito’s back, tugging him closer and wriggling closer himself, all the better to twine their legs together. “Keito,” he murmurs, his nails scraping gently against Keito’s back as his mouth parts, his tongue flicking out to try and taste.

  


Keito still hesitates, but more because of fear rather than embarrassment. Slowly, he lets his tongue meet Eichi’s, and that sends a hot slither of arousal through him. He lets one socked foot drag up against Eichi’s calf, then back down, toes gently stroking over the arch of Eichi’s foot from below. “You can…” Keito’s chest jumps, and he lays a hand on Eichi’s shoulder, nervous. Then he reaches down, hornier than he is scared, and touches—

  


“What the  _fuck_ ,” he breathes, eyes wide and startled. “Is that—all you?”

  


Eichi’s pulse thuds hard in his ears, and for a moment, the question doesn’t process, because Keito’s hand is  _definitely_  on his dick, and that makes his heart skip a beat or two. “H-huh? Yeah, obviously,” he huffs, his fingers curling into the obi of Keito’s yukata, unraveling it with a little tug. “Ahh…don’t touch it too much, I really will just come,” he whines. “I wasn’t joking before about the sneeze orgasms!” 

  


Keito ignores that, and slaps at Eichi’s hands, his own falling to his lap, blocking Eichi’s path. “No, don’t touch that! Um, it’s not—I mean, I think it’s fine, there’s nothing wrong with it, but…”

  


“What, you can touch mine but I can’t touch yours?” Eichi grumbles, turning his head to bite Keito’s neck in retaliation. “That’s unfair. Gimme.” His hand shoves Keito’s out of the way, immediately making a grab for his cock. His fingers curl, pleased to find it hard and hot through thin fabric, and the rush that comes from  _finally_  touching another guy’s dick—yeah, that kind of takes his breath away, and he didn’t have a lot to begin with. 

  


“Don’t…” But Eichi doesn’t seem to be making fun of him, and Keito’s cock swiftly overrides what’s left of his brain, informing him that this is not scary, it is  _awesome_ , and if he does anything to make that sweet delicious friction stop, he’s the biggest fool that’s ever lived.  _Fair enough_ , he thinks giddily, and grabs at Eichi’s again, curling his hand at least  _mostly_  around that thick length. The idea that Eichi is hard for  _him_  makes him dizzy with arousal, and his hips shift up against Eichi’s hand, begging wordlessly.

  


_Don’t_  seems a hell of a lot more like  _please_ , and Eichi goes for it. His fingers eagerly tighten, the flat of his palm rubbing down as he squeezes. Keito’s own hand is  _distracting_  on his cock, and he exhales a breathy sigh, stuffing his face into Keito’s neck as his back arches and he rubs against Keito’s hand, painfully hard, his toes curling as he moves. “Keitooo…ahh,  _fuck._ ” 

  


He’d warned Keito, at least, about being stupidly hair trigger right now. Warm, wet heat blossoms through his trousers before he even  _really_  gets to enjoy the way Keito’s hand feels on his dick, but that’s not super important when it still feels good. 

  


“You—you did it,” Keito says, awed as he pulls his hand away, mystified at the wet spot on his palm. “Eichi…nnh, don’t touch mine so much, it’s embarrassing when you’re not…”

  


“Shut up, it might get hard again,” Eichi mutters, giving Keito a swift shove to flatten him onto his back. He doesn’t stop touching when he plants a knee between Keito’s legs—the opposite, in fact, because now he’s bold enough to shove his hand right underneath Keito’s yukata and touch it  _directly_ , all smooth, hot skin, sort of sticky at the tip when he runs his thumb over it like he likes doing to himself. His breath comes hard, his face flushed as he leans down, hair swinging forward to frame his face as he strokes. “It’s not fun if you don’t do it, too.” 

  


Well, who is Keito to deny him fun?

  


Granted, that definitely applies especially in situations where “fun” means “getting his dick touched,” which Keito thinks is fair. He groans, hand reaching down to close over Eichi’s, making it firmer, more obvious a target for him to shove his dick against. Each stroke feels far more intense than when he does it himself, even if it isn’t just where he would have touched, and he hisses out a breath, hips rutting against that smooth, cool skin. “Gonna—“

  


He was going to say something else, but then Eichi’s fingernail catches against the underside of his cock, and suddenly he’s coming, spilling over Eichi’s hand in more fireworks than he usually shoots off, making him blink and gasp, toes curling hard as he trembles.

  


Eichi breathes in deep, sitting back to watch as Keito comes, his eyes dilated. “…That’s a lot more than I thought it would be,” he says, slowly pulling his hand away to play with the mess stuck to his fingers, watching the sticky snap back of come between them when he pulls them apart. “More than me, anyway.” He pauses, then lifts his hand, giving it an experimental lick. “Yeah, tastes like tofu, kinda.”

  


“Seriously?”

  


Keito has to laugh, skinny legs splayed apart on the futon as his head thunks back against the ground. Euphoria makes him sound a little crazy, but that could be worse, and at least Eichi isn’t pushing him away. “Yours is really big, right? Is that the, uh, European?”

  


“Probably? I dunno,” Eichi cheerfully says, flopping to the side to lie down next to Keito, still breathing heavily. Belatedly, he wriggles his way out of his pants, kicking them aside to avoid remaining sticky and start chafing. “I like to think it means I’m gonna be tall eventually. Hey, so, you’ve always liked boys, right?” 

  


Keito bites his lip, then nods. He meets Eichi’s eyes, wanting to know whether this changes things, whether this is embarrassing.

  


“Cool.” Eichi stares back at him, planting his cheek down into one hand. “I mean, same, girls are okay but boys are so much  _better._  Do you think about…the ways you wanna do it, then?” 

  


Keito’s mouth opens, then shuts again, and he nods once more. Then, shyly, he offers, “You can look…more. In the sketch book, if you want. That’s what the green one is, you weren’t wrong.”

  


Eichi brightens, and immediately dives for the sketch book in question. “It’s so much more convenient that you can draw it out. Talking about logistics is hard. I bet yours’ll get bigger,” he adds absently as he starts to flip through. “I like the idea of that, at any rate.” 

  


“Don’t get mad if it doesn’t! Most of me hasn’t grown in a year, it’s just my legs that are catching up!”

  


“Uh huh. Don’t set low expectations for yourself. Woooow, you really think I’m supposed to be the girl, huh?” 

  


“That’s not—that’s a really outdated way to look at it,” Keito says, pushing his glasses back into proper position. “I just…you’d look good that way.”  _And doing stuff to my butt sounds less fun._  “I’m taller, anyway.”

  


“Yeah, for  _now_.” Eichi glances up, eyeing Keito, then glances down again. “Of course I’d look  _good_. I’ll always look good. I won’t cry like this, though, you can’t make me.” 

  


“It’s just creative expression,” Keito mutters, tugging up the collar of his yukata. “You don’t have to, like, comment on every page.”

  


“Stop being so self-conscious, I  _don’t_  care,” Eichi bemoans, squishing himself closer and snuggling into Keito’s side. “Also, I just licked your come, I thiiiink we leveled up a little.” 

  


Keito snorts. “Don’t say it so gross, you have to use pretty words for it.” Nonetheless, he curls an arm around Eichi’s waist, tugging him close. Yes, this is the exact post-sex cuddle he’d imagined, a thousand times. “You…I’ll try really hard,” he offers. “I’ve done a lot of research, I won’t hurt you or put it in wrong, and I’ll make sure you come first.”

  


“Yeah, that part’s not gonna be hard,” Eichi laughs, flopping an arm over Keito’s chest, face pressed into his neck. Keito always smells so  _clean_ —not like hospital clean, but like good, human clean. It’s probably the green tea. “I’ll do it that way if you let me do it the other way after.” 

  


Keito winces.  _Do I have to_  sounds childish and whiny, which isn’t how he wants to come across in bed, but… “Your dick is  _so_  big, though.”

  


“Yeah? That should be appealing.” 

  


“Not when you want to put it in my asshole!”

  


“Umm, no, that’s exactly when it should be appealing. If your dick was as big as mine, we wouldn’t be having this conversation, for example.” 

  


“We—what?” Keito blinks, totally confused. “I really don’t think bigger is better in this case, Eichi. That part is  _delicate_. You’re believing another porn lie.”

  


“Listen, I know what turns me on,” Eichi huffs. “And it’s the idea of a big one. So! Let me put it in at least once, maybe you’ll be into it, too.” 

 

Keito groans, and lets out a little growl. “Fine. But you’re in charge of making sure it doesn’t hurt. And I seriously get to do it first.”

 

“I already said that was fiiine,” Eichi sighs, rolling over to flop down atop Keito’s chest. “I’m staying here tonight. No one can stop me.”

 


	5. Chapter 5

 

A hefty endowment to Yumenosaki all but guarantees his acceptance. Eichi doesn’t particularly see the issue in buying his way in; he auditions all the same, and is accepted. The only difference is he got to do it later than everyone else (but if his family has given them that much money, who cares?).

 

Being accepted to such a prestigious idol school doesn’t change the state of his own existence, however, and that means the first three months of his first year are still mostly spent in a hospital. The only connection he has to the school is Keito—Keito, who didn’t want to go in the first place, Keito, who is barely interested in it at all if he isn’t there—and so begging stories out of him is fairly useless. Eichi does hear one interesting thing, and that’s about an exhibition that’s actually being televised, so he sets an alarm, wakes up just to make _sure_ he sees it, and he isn’t disappointed.

 

Itsuki Shu is still _perfect_. Seeing him in action is otherworldly, with his voice making Eichi shiver, every movement of his body taking what breath he still has away, and seeing the sheer control over every aspect of his performance that he has, from costumes to set to music to— _everything_ —

 

 _No wonder they_ wanted _you there._

 

Shu has a cute little blonde that performs with him, but Eichi tunes him out. Unimportant. If anything, he takes it as a compliment—it’s a replacement for what Shu couldn’t have ( _me!)_. Well, when he gets back to school, it won’t be an issue, now will it?

 

A week later, Eichi _finally_ finds himself back at Yumenosaki. Never mind the stupid monitor taped to his chest underneath shirt, sweater, and blazer—he’s still at _school_ , gets to be with Keito, and finally gets to talk to Shu without his family interfering.

 

Which is what he does immediately, of course.

 

“Itsuki-kun!” They’re in the same class, it makes it _easy_ , and the second Shu walks in through the door, Eichi claws his way to his feet, beaming as he darts over to him, cutting whatever forgotten conversation he was having with Keito in half. “Hi! I told you I’d be here! I saw your performance on TV the other day, it was amazing!”

 

Shu hears that familiar voice—deeper now, more resonant despite, whatever he’d called it, Jonathan?—and stiffens.

 

_Don’t. You can’t._

 

It’s one thing to have a forbidden little crush on someone his family doesn’t like. They don’t like anything. But it’s another to associate with someone who’s done the things his mother had told him about, the last time she’d caught Shu trying to send Eichi a letter. He’d been sat down, lectured, and sent to bed without supper, feeling like an extremely stupid child.

 

 _And you,_ he thinks at Eichi, stomach churning, _you played with me._

 

He lifts his chin, pasting on a false, smug little smile. “Of course, I was exquisite.” _And no one to be trifled with._ “Now that you’re finally here, are you planning to defeat me? You’ll have a difficult time of it.”

 

Shu seems…hm. Smaller, somehow, but Eichi supposes that’s just because _he’s_ taller. He’d hoped, secretly, that Shu would stay taller than him, even though he was tall before, but Eichi supposes that’s too much to ask. So, he makes up for it, plopping down onto the edge of Shu’s desk to beam up at him. “Don’t be stupid, why would I want to defeat you? We’re going to rule this whole school together, right?”

 

Shu’s lips purse together. The idea that he could give in is intoxicating. Eichi is still lovely, though tall (ugh). But knowing what he does… “I already have my unit,” he says loftily. “Didn’t you see? It’s me, and my beautiful, darling, perfect Nito. You could never replace him.”

 

Eichi blinks up at him, his smile slowly fading. It’s one thing for Shu to be sort of…hard to get underneath the skin of. He’s used to that, from the few times he’s run into the other boy. It’s another thing to be flat-out rejected, to have the plans _they’ve_ made together, and that stings. His heart thuds oddly, and Eichi swallows hard. “I saw,” he says, forcing his voice to stay level. “Interesting that you’d pick someone else tiny and blonde. I was assuming he was a placeholder.”

 

Shu’s smile thins. This is _unfair_. Eichi’s the one who’s the snake, isn’t he? Why should Shu be the one who feels like his chest is too tight, like he won’t be able to eat for at least a day after his stomach curls in on himself? Keeping all of that off of his face hurts, and makes him feel as if he’s frozen, made of ice. “Once you see him, you’ll understand how perfect he is,” he says, because it’s far easier to talk about Nito than himself. “Do try to keep up, Tenshouin.” He spits the name. It’s the most important part, and reminds him why he’s upset.

 

It isn’t often that someone manages to make him feel like a complete and utter imbecile, but in this moment, Shu does, and Eichi _hates it_. He hates it almost as much as the idea that he’d fought so hard to be here for _this_ , and the tightness in his chest makes him want to die. “I’m keeping up just fine, thanks,” he mutters, the smile entirely gone from his face as he shoves himself up to his feet, suddenly glad he’s the same height as Shu. “If you think he’s so perfect, I’ll make sure to get to know him later. Keito,” Eichi suddenly calls, wanting out, and wanting out _now_ , “I’m not feeling well, take me to the infirmary.”

 

~

 

“Ah…It’s Eichi-kun, right?”

 

The lilting, sweet-voiced sentence is followed by a little giggle that sounds highly at odds coming out of Itsuki Shu’s mouth, especially when his eyes aren’t moving. He stands stock-still in the doorway of the infirmary, looking deathly pale, holding an antique doll in the crook of his arm.

 

Shu giggles again, that high, girly tone, and one of his hands comes up, smoothing the doll’s skirts. “Eichi-kun doesn’t look so good…but Shu-kun won’t mind, I think! Ah, but right now, he wants to turn around and run away from you.”

 

“Knock it off, Itsuki,” Kuro Kiryuu says tiredly, looming behind Shu in the doorway, giving him a gentle shove between his shoulderblades. “You’re gonna make everyone uncomfortable, yanno.”

 

Eichi groggily rouses, pulling the cold, wet washcloth off of his eyes to peer blearily at the hulking combination of Kuro and Shu, standing together and making his vision blur.

 

_Oh, great._

 

He’s been back at school for less than three days, already in the infirmary again courtesy of his own weakness and shitty weather, and now he has to deal with Itsuki Shu—Itsuki Shu, who is currently out of his mind, apparently. His lips purse, and he slowly turns onto his side, presenting his back. “I’m trying to sleep,” he offers up hoarsely. “Keep it down.”

 

“Ryuu-kun,” Shu says sweetly, face blank and staring, “Shu-kun is feeling so shy right now, hehe! Maybe you should give him a little—“

 

“This is so weird,” Kuro mutters, and simply lifts Shu off of his feet, setting him down roughly on the bed next to Eichi’s. “Sorry about him. Stay there, Itsuki.”

 

Eichi glowers at Kuro accusingly. _Why aren’t you just removing him entirely? Take him with you, toss him over your shoulder, take him_ home.

 

It would be kinder, if Shu is honestly this weird now.

 

He finds himself staring at Shu, and that frilly little doll he carries around nonstop. “Why are you talking with that voice?” he can’t help but ask. “You’re weird, I get it, don’t make everything even weirder.”

 

“Shu-kun isn’t feeling very well right now,” Shu says, in that odd high-pitched voice, and he slowly shifts the doll, as if it’s staring at Eichi. “Sometimes when he’s upset, he needs me to talk for him…and he’s always upset when Eichi-kun is around.”

 

“Give it a rest,” Eichi flatly says, pulling his washcloth back down over his eyes. “You hid at home for half a year, aren’t you over it yet?”

 

“Shu-kun doesn’t want to talk to you.” Shu lets his eyes close, as if that will help to smother the throbbing headache between his eyes. “I’m protecting him, all right? Ah, if only Mika-chan were here, since Nito-kun isn’t talking to him anymore…and since you’re a traitor, right?”

 

“A traitor? That’s an interesting take on it.” That voice is so _creepy_ , and Eichi wishes it would stop. “Why am _I_ a traitor now?”

 

“I wonder,” the soft, high-voice says, “if Eichi-kun thinks it’s all right to be a part of the Tenshouin family. Shu-kun thinks it’s pretty bad, I think? But if Eichi-kun thinks it’s all right for his family to do all the things his family does, then Shu-kun would rather not hold his hand anymore.”

 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Eichi pulls one of those shitty, not squishy enough pillows close against his chest, irritation swiftly turning into a frustration, into a heartsickness that he’d rather not think about. Everything else is too fresh to pull up _old_ wounds— _Tsumugi, fuck you, Hibiki, I don’t know what to do with you_ —and frankly, he just doesn’t want to deal with it. “My family doesn’t have anything to do with you and I. It never has.”

 

“Easy for _you_ to say.” That’s Shu’s real voice, low and sharp, though he still stares at the ceiling. “You got what you wanted, didn’t you? Like you always do.”

 

That’s better. At least it isn’t a creepy little girl voice. Eichi can work with that. “I’m not following,” he admits wearily, still refusing to look at Shu. “I’m assuming you’re talking about your last, disastrous performance here—trying to say that my _family_ has something to do with that is just ridiculous.”

 

“I’m _talking_ ,” Shu says tiredly, “about how you go along with all the horrible things other people do, and encourage them, and then keep your hands clean. Not all of us have that luxury—and I know what you did to him, too.”

 

“You’re assuming an awful lot for someone who hasn’t been here. What did I do to who? Be specific or _I’m_ assuming you’re talking out of your ass.”

 

“…”

 

Shu gulps for air, then squeezes his eyes shut again, trying to keep the pain away. It isn’t helping, probably because the pain isn’t a headache, but a heartache that hurts everywhere. “Nito. Your hands—I know they were on him. It’s your fault, you were jealous, you poisoned him against me, didn’t you?”

 

Eichi’s lips part, but he pauses, actually mulling over what to say next. “I didn’t have to poison him,” he finally settles upon, flopping onto his back. “He came to _my_ door. We’re good friends, you know.”

 

Shu wonders whether he’ll have to go home if he throws up. He turns over, burying his face under the pillow, trying to keep his eyes so tightly shut that tears can’t escape.

 

“Shu-kun…is going to rest for a little while,” the high voice comes again. “It would be better if you didn’t talk to him right now, don’t you think, Eichi-kun?”

 

“No—no, it wouldn’t, you’re driving me nuts!”

 

Eichi sits up abruptly, no matter how it makes his head spin, and he exhales a hot, ragged breath. “You’re _not_ allowed to be mad at me for fucking Nazuna,” he flatly says. “You’re not. I gave you a chance, you blew me off, so you have absolutely _no_ say in who else I’m in bed with.”

 

His beautiful doll, his lovely perfect specimen, who should be put away in a museum just so no one can touch him, just so no one can even look at him without permission—soiled. Tainted. _Ruined_ , by the uncareful hands that ruin everything Shu has ever wanted. “You have your win,” he whispers, voice raw. “Leave me alone, you have everything you want.”

 

“You’re an idiot if you think that,” Eichi sullenly retorts, flopping back down and tossing an arm over his face. “Honestly, screw you. You don’t understand anything.”

 

“And you take responsibility for nothing. So there’s nothing else to say,” Shu says brusquely, then yanks a thin, threadbare blanket over his head.

 

“You aren’t telling me what I should take responsibility for. Nazuna? Is this about him? You know he was going to leave Valkyrie either way, right?” Eichi exasperatedly says. “I had nothing to do with _that_. I just helped him get out.”

 

“You tricked him,” Shu insists dully. “He, he loved being in Valkyrie. You did something to him. You changed—you ruined everything, you and your family are the reason I’m—“

 

He cuts himself off abruptly, then rolls himself out of bed, taking care to protect the fancy doll. “This is doubtless not the kind of rest I need. Don’t talk to me in class tomorrow.”

 

“No, we’re settling this.”

 

Eichi lurches up, grabbing him by the wrist, yanking Shu back as he grips hard enough for his knuckles to turn white. “I was jealous, you’re right. But Nazuna came to _me_ , he wanted my help. The moment you started treating him like he was a doll and not a human, he was done, and I was an easy out. Believe me or don’t, I don’t care—but my _name_ has nothing to do with that. That’s just how it is.”

 

Hot anger chews at Shu’s stomach, and he shoves back, knocking Eichi’s hand off of his wrist. “People like you are all the same,” he snarls, spots of color appearing in his cheeks. “You step all over people, then pass it down to your descendants and pretend you’ve never done anything wrong—you’re the worst kind of colonialist!”

 

“Do you even _hear_ yourself? I never said I didn’t do anything wrong, I said I didn’t do anything wrong as far as _Nazuna_ was concerned!” Eichi snaps back, hauling himself out of bed entirely to loom over Shu, no matter how shaky his legs feel. “For the last time, stop bringing my family into this! They’ve never done anything to you except, apparently, _poison_ you into automatically thinking we should be enemies! It didn’t have to be like this, you know—I thought you understood that!”

 

“And I thought—“

 

Shu chokes off what he would have said next, the bitter, sick heat twisting off his words. “I thought you would at least be an honorable opponent,” he spits. “Despite everything I heard—I thought you would at least beat me by fighting me honestly. Instead, you proved right everything I’ve ever heard.”

 

“Honorable? What kind of honor was there in _prerecording_ your music and lipsyncing? That’s against the rules, don’t talk to me about fighting honestly!” Eichi nearly stomps his foot—nearly! “Also—also!! Breaking the promise we made, how is that honorable? You forfeited any right for me to fight fairly with you!”

 

_Ah. This is bad._

 

Whether what’s bad is how horrible Tenshouin is, or how much Shu wants to grab him and kiss him even now is a mystery, as Shu’s eyes roll back into his head, and his body crumples to the floor in a dead faint.

 

What leaves Eichi’s mouth is a squawk of surprise, and he narrowly manages to stop Shu from hitting the ground in a complete heap. Shu is much heavier than he looks, and it takes effort to haul him onto the bed, leaving Eichi feeling far more out of breath than he’d like. “ _Honestly_ ,” he huffs, giving Shu’s face a little slap. “Why are you like this?”

 

Shu stirs slightly, realizes where he is, and promptly shuts his eyes again, going limp. It’ll probably solve more problems than it’ll cause, and it’s not his first time faking unconscious.

 

“If you’re playing dead, I’ll have to give you mouth to mouth. You look like you’re barely breathing, Itsuki-kun.”

 

With a sudden burst of strength, Shu opens his eyes, then flips the emergency dial on the little heart monitor Eichi wears around his neck, before grabbing Mademoiselle and fleeing the room on unsteady legs.

 

“Wh—fuck you! Fuck you, you piece of shit! If you wanna talk about dishonorable, I’ll show you dishonorable next time!” Eichi snarls, throwing himself back down into bed and grabbing a pillow to scream into as he waits for the inevitable swooping in of bodyguards. Itsuki Shu _deserves_ all of this. To hell with him!

 


	6. Chapter 6

 

Itsuki Shu is not a thief. He may not be able to afford a practice room, but with Kagehira spending most of his time doing part-time jobs, it’s not as difficult as one might think to endeavor to find some time alone in a practice room.

 

Yumenosaki’s standard practice is to give students a code to open the door of a practice room, which is programmed to accept that code for as long as the team pays for. Shu isn’t terribly proud of his strategy, but he doesn’t mind walking through the hallways where practice rooms open, looking for people who’ve left them just a bit ajar. It happens most nights, and he sights one now, sneaking in before the door can properly lock, shutting it with satisfaction behind him. At least this evening won’t be a total loss, not after he throws a good three sweaty hours into hard, grueling practice.

 

Pretending to leave early with the rest of fine is a habit Eichi developed some time ago, and it continues now, after shrugging away Yuzuru’s warily concerned stare, Tori’s clinginess, and Wataru…in general. An excuse that he has something left behind in the student council room helps him escape, but he ducks back down the hall instead, beelining straight back to the practice room they abandoned early.

 

He’s always had to play catch up, had to practice harder, and that’s fine. Today, something’s different, and he doesn’t realize it until he keys in the code and cracks open the door to be immediately slapped in the face by the sound of a familiar backing track—not fine’s, but _Valkyrie’s._

 

Eichi’s mouth falls open, then snaps shut again, and he scowls, slamming the door shut. “Itsuki-kun,” he sweetly greets. “Do you mind?”

 

Shu’s voice cuts off with a sound like a squeak, and he slams his hand down onto the sound system, stopping the music suddenly. He turns away, hiding his flushed face, chest heaving from the difficult dance routine. Frustration courses in his veins. Why can’t he get the steps right? Why has he fallen so far, when Kagehira wants his help so much? Why does he still _care_ when this whole place has tuned into a cesspool?

 

And _why_ , beyond everything, is _Tenshouin_ here?

 

“What are you doing here?” he snaps, some of his fury, his desperation coming out in the words.

 

“This is the room I booked for fine.” Eichi’s arms fold across his chest, his eyebrows raised. “I don’t recall approving anything for Valkyrie…and certainly not in this time slot. If you’d like to argue with me, I can show you the paperwork, but I think you know I’m right.”

 

“Y-you left the room,” Shu protests. “And you—you left the door open, I was just—you would have wasted all of that time, how awful of you! It might as well be used for true art, rather than your…sanitized Disney pop nonsense.”

 

“Yes, I left it open because I was coming _back_ , and—you know, you don’t always have to be so rude!” Eichi snaps, stalking closer. “Just because _you_ dislike it doesn’t mean a great number of other people don’t and that it’s _bad._ That kind of attitude is why no one wants to associate with you anymore, you know!”

 

“The people I _associate_ with find me quite pleasant,” Shu says stiffly, trying as always to will himself not to gravitate towards this awful, obscenely beautiful man. His stomach always knots up when Eichi is around, and he has to work hard not to simply run physically away, instead squaring his shoulders and standing his ground. “And since your unit left without you, I don’t think you have any room for criticism!”

 

“There you go again, always _assuming_ things! I don’t have to explain myself to you, but I will anyway, because you’re so annoying!” Eichi wants to grab Shu and _shake him_ , but then Shu would probably faint and not hear him. “I’m staying behind to play catch-up, you idiot. I’ve been in and out of the hospital for months, or was that not obvious enough?” His teeth grit out of irritation. “Happy now? To hear that your enemy is suffering?”

 

“It—“

 

Damn him.

 

“It’s likely only what you deserve,” Shu says, though he doesn’t sound as confident as he’d like to. “Fine, if you need the room so bad, I’ll let you have it out of pity.” That’s far better than retreating because it isn’t his in the first place.

 

Eichi feels his temper flare like it hasn’t in ages. Few people can rile him to that point, but Itsuki Shu, it seems, is one of them. “I don’t need your pity,” he snaps. “If you need it so badly, why don’t you stay, Teiou-san? You look like a mess, but you must know that.”

 

“Why?” Shu demands, the word torn from him. It isn’t his fault, of course. He hasn’t been alone with Tenshouin since that moment in the infirmary, nearly a year earlier, because he’s known how it would end—with him grabbing Eichi’s lapels, stepping forward to force him back against the wall. “Why do you poison everything? Why do you make me so—“

 

Eichi’s back hits the wall, and his breath stutters, catching up in his throat out of surprise. Shu is much stronger than he looks, and that one shove makes him flush in a confused mix of anger and—no, stop that! “Make you so what?” he manages to spit out without stuttering. “You brought it all on yourself!”

 

“I—I know that!”

 

Obviously!

 

Of course Shu had brought it on himself, that’s what’s so horrible about the whole thing! No, it’s not his fault—except it is, it’s always been his fault—no, no, Mademoiselle knows he’s innocent—but he’s just mad, of course, he’s just—

 

And Tenshouin is so close—and his cologne is so sweet and familiar and—

 

And—

 

And Shu doesn’t think, but drops suddenly to his knees, yanking frantically at Eichi’s belt and trouser fastenings.

 

Any and all retorts die on Eichi’s tongue, his mouth suddenly dry and the idea of words decidedly useless.

 

So, he doesn’t try.

 

Instead, his fingers immediately tangle up into Shu’s hair—fuck, it’s so soft, as feathery as Eichi has imagined it to be when he’s jerked off to a very similar scenario on at least a dozen occasions—and he helps yank at his own pants as well, yanking them down. Have you done this before? he wants to ask, but fuck it, he’s not going to complain either way. How they ended up here from arguing, he can’t quite figure out, but—to hell with it.

 

Eichi’s trousers part, shoved down below his knees, and the last of Shu’s doubts vanish. Fuck his family. Fuck the school rankings, fuck everything that suddenly doesn’t seem important in the slightest compared to the strong, sudden scent of Eichi as he bends his head down. He doesn’t pause or hesitate, opening his mouth wide to mouth over the head, letting out a groan at the thought that finally, finally, he’s going to have what he wants, even for just a second.

 

It feels about how he’d thought a cock in his mouth would feel, though bigger, much bigger, enough that his jaw starts to hurt from the first urgent bob of his head. The taste fills his senses, enough of a disgusting note that arousal flares in his belly, a feeling he’s dreamed about ever since the beginning of puberty. Shakily, his hands move up to splay over Eichi’s thighs, yanking him closer for every desperate suck.

 

At least for today, there’s no issue in being rock hard in under a minute. Eichi blames Shu for that, and he blames him for the way his legs wobble, the dizzy, heady feeling of being so hard, so fast making him pant for a full breath as he grabs harder at Shu’s hair. The slick slide of Shu’s tongue makes him groan, and he bites his lip as he yanks Shu’s head down further, urgently, mindlessly seeking more. “W…watch your teeth,” he belatedly rasps, his hips helplessly jerking forward. “I know it’s a lot, but you—you can take it, I know you can.”

 

Well. Shu hadn’t known that being talked to is something that’s going to make him hard in his pants, but now he knows. The words make him ache already, and he feels saliva trickling from his lips, around the suddenly much thicker length in his mouth. It’s much more than he feels comfortable taking, but—but Eichi’s voice—

 

He shoves himself down faster, choking a little and ignoring it, tears streaming down his cheeks as his eyelashes flutter. He tries to tuck his teeth away, he tries, but there’s just so much, and all he can do is slurp down more of Eichi’s cock with every breath.

 

“Oh shit,” Eichi hears himself breathe, his eyes rolling back as he sags back, his head thunking back against the wall. He could be nicer about this, probably, but Shu’s mouth is so hungry around him, and that little gagging noise he makes really makes it impossible. His fingers tighten, and he yanks Shu’s head down, unforgiving when he feels resistance, needing that warm, wet slide around his cock. “That’s…you’re such a good boy.” Shu doesn’t seem to hate it when he talks, so he’s not going to stop. “Always knew you’d be good at this,” he groans, his hips twitching forward, slowly fucking into Shu’s mouth. “Didn’t know you’d be such a slut, but—that…that makes it better.”

 

Shu’s groan is choked and pathetic, hands curling against Eichi’s thighs. His eyes are wide and panicky, but his attempts to pull off are only token. He presses his thighs together, trying to relieve some of the pressure in his aching cock, but nothing helps. No matter how he squirms, Eichi’s voice is in his ear, in his mind, hands yanking him down in a way that’s straight out of every one of Shu’s dirtiest fantasies, and he tries to hold off, he tries. He shouldn’t like it, right? Men shouldn’t love being held down and thoroughly throatfucked by an enormous cock, but Shu has never cared about the kinds of things men should love, not when a hard thrust from Eichi and the breathy accusation of slut makes him come in his school uniform pants.

 

Never mind that it’s been awhile, so he has every excuse to be hair trigger—that has nothing to do with it. It’s all Shu. The way he squirms at Eichi’s feet, the way his hands cling and push and grab, the way his mouth is just so hungry and eager that Eichi can’t even begin to catch his breath…

 

Eichi shudders hard as he comes, his own fingers dragging against Shu’s scalp, yanking and holding his head down when he spills down Shu’s throat, far enough into his mouth that at least Shu can’t spit most of it out. The thought that Shu has no choice but to swallow him down makes his orgasm even stronger, and Eichi’s eyes flutter, his breath hitching and hiccuping as he forces himself not to bend forward and brace over Shu for better balance. “Ahh…fuck,” he groans, his fingers trembling as he slowly releases his hold. “You…have such a perfect mouth…make sure you swallow, okay?”

 

Shu deliberately pulls back, until just the tip of Eichi’s cock rests on his tongue. Then he looks up through damp lashes, just so Eichi knows it’s on purpose, and swallows every bit of the thick, disgusting fluid coating his tongue.

 

Then he sits back on his heels, shaking and trembling from head to toe. He takes in a breath, waiting for the shame and revulsion to settle over him. “I, ah…”

 

Eichi’s eyes remain locked on Shu’s mouth for a long moment, his chest heaving. Then, he gives up, the last bit of his sense disappearing as he drops to his knees and lunges forward, pinning Shu flat onto his back. You’ll regret this later! one little voice cheerfully shrieks in the back of his mind, but it’s easy to silence that when Shu is flushed and trembling beneath him. “I want to eat you,” he breathes, and promptly fastens his mouth to the side of Shu’s neck, biting, sucking, all while his hand reaches down, grabbing between Shu’s legs—

 

—to feel the dampness already there, which shocks the breath out of Eichi anew. Itsuki Shu, coming from giving him a blowjob? He muffles a groan against Shu’s neck, and nips at the lobe of his ear, tongue sliding up the edge of it. “You really are a slut, huh.”

 

Shu’s breath comes out in a strangled groan, and he wrenches Eichi’s head up by the hair, yanking their mouths together in the kind of bruising, forceful kiss he never could have imagined when they were nervous 12-year-olds. His thighs part, hips thrusting up against even that tiny brush of Eichi’s fingers. “Don’t stop,” he begs, head tipping back until it thunks against the floor. “F-fuck me right here.”

 

Seriously? Eichi wants to question. This is prudish, prissy, squeamish Itsuki Shu, begging to be fucked on the floor of a practice room—but who the hell is he to complain, or to stop it? “Kiss me like that again, and it’ll be hard soon enough,” he pants out, grabbing Shu’s face up in one hand to pull him into the kiss himself, groaning as he sucks on Shu’s tongue, tasting himself on it.

 

Shu kicks at his shoes, then his pants, finally getting them off, and wraps a slender leg around Eichi’s waist, yanking him close enough to grind together. “Fuck me,” he breathes, eyes blown black with lust behind his contacts, mouth bruised from Eichi’s, “like you should have fucked me years ago, you bastard.”

 

“I’m—“ Not wearing a condom, and you’re going to get over it, Eichi thinks of telling him, but cuts himself short, too distracted by the grind of their hips and how his cock is already hard, rubbing against Shu’s thigh, leaving a slick, sticky streak behind. “It’s your fault that I didn’t,” he pants out instead, fumbling into the inside of his blazer pocket and ripping open the packet of lube that he produces with his teeth. “Whatever—making up for lost time, right?”

 

He’s rushing, but fuck it. There’s enough lube to make his cock slick when he presses against Shu’s hole—have you done this before? with who? whatever, this is mine now—and that tight, twitchy bit of resistance makes him shiver. Eichi braces a hand against the floor, grabs at Shu’s hip with the other, holding him steady as he pushes forward, biting his lip until he tastes blood when the head sinks inside.

 

The thickness of that cock forcing him open is enough to make Shu pant and squirm, legs parting, eyes bulging as he’s stretched. It feels like a lot more than whatever he’s had in him before as practice, and his nails dig into Eichi’s back, scrabbling with nerves. “Nn—it’s too big, it’s—god, of course you’d have a big thick one, just—aahhhh, Eichi—“ He may not have used Eichi’s first name in years, but that’s how he thinks of the man currently inside him, burning his way inside, making it feel like he’s writhing on the world’s thickest protrusion.

 

Hearing Shu groan out his name like that makes Eichi’s already stretched-thin self-control snap, and he shoves in the second he feels Shu breathe in, relax for just a second, sinking in far enough that that tight, tense heat around his cock makes him shudder and gasp for a full breath, his head knocking down against Shu’s shoulder. “You…ahh, fuck, don’t complain, you take it like you love it,” he pants out, grinding in slowly, hiking up one of Shu’s legs further to throw it over his shoulder as he fucks in. Thoughtlessly, Eichi drags a hand up Shu’s chest, rubbing a thumb over a nipple through his shirt. “Just like I thought you would, actually…”

 

Shu’s voice spikes into a squeak, and he tightens down hard around Eichi’s too-thick cock as a sudden spurt squirts from the tip of his cock. His whole body shudders, starting from his chest as he arches hard. “Ah, ah—too much, it’s—don’t do that, or I’ll—“ He reaches down, yanking Eichi’s shirt up just so he can rake his nails down bare skin this time, hungry to leave marks as heat builds in his belly. “You’re so—fuck me, harder—“

 

Eichi gasps, his back arching underneath the rake of Shu’s nails, only further encouraging that sharp, stinging pain-pleasure that makes him thrust in harder, no matter how tight Shu is around him. “Or you’ll what?” he breathes, his eyes bright, tongue flicking out to lick up a droplet of sweat that streaks down his face. “Come on my cock this time? Good, do it.” Eichi’s fingers pinch and pull on that same nipple as he grinds in, and with his next thrust, he bottoms out, skin slapping against skin with a low groan escaping his throat. “Shit,” he manages. “You—fuck, you’re…” So good at taking dick, who knew?

 

Shu’s legs don’t feel like they want to spread wider, but he forces it, desperate for any kind of ease in that brutal thickness stuffing him full. It doesn’t help. Nothing does. Everything is too much, making stars pop behind his eyes, stealing his breath with every animalistic rut into his body. Even if it’s too much, it still feels _right_ , feels like something he should have done far too long ago, like only now is he truly becoming a real person deep inside. “F-fuck me,” he groans, any thought ideas flying out of his head, leaving a dull, pleasant buzzing.

 

Eichi gives up on talking. Instead, he just focuses on doing just what Shu wants— _fucking him_ , hard, rough, down into the floor, rutting into him hard enough that it hurts his knees and makes his arms tremble as he holds himself up, bracing to better grind deep into Shu’s trembling, arching body. The nails in his back just drive him on, the whimpers and groans he forces out of Shu’s mouth make his eyes cross, and—fuck it, _nothing_ has ever felt so satisfying.

 

That’s why he doesn’t bother holding back when he comes, buried to the hilt in Shu’s perfect ass, spilling deep inside with only a few more thrusts. “Fuck,” Eichi groans, bent over him and trembling, feeling very much like he’s been drained of life itself.

 

“…Well,” Shu says at last, eyes glazing over as he lays back, panting at the ceiling. “That was…certainly a long time coming.”

 

Eichi says nothing for a moment, unmoving, trembling and out of breath before he lifts his head, grabs Shu’s face, and kisses him so hard that he tastes blood afterward. “I meant it,” he finally rasps, “when I said I want to eat you. Holy shit.”

 

It’s a good thing Shu is lying down, since that kiss would have made him fall down. He breathes in deep, and snuggles mindlessly towards Eichi, licking blood off of his own lips. “I think, for some reason, I do want to be eaten.”

 

Eichi shudders, slumping down against him in sort of lingering, dizzy bliss. If he wasn’t being stupid, he’d probably grab for his inhaler and stop dying, but when Shu is finally, _willingly_ cuddling up to him after they’ve just had sex on the floor of a practice room, his lungs can wait. “We…need to do this all the time,” he whispers. “Please.”

 

Shu nods, very slowly, still trying to figure out how to blink. “Y…es. I believe we’ll need to. Because I found that…addicting at least.”

 

“…Have you done it before?” Because he _has_ to know. Honestly, Eichi can’t fucking tell, and either way, shouldn’t Shu think that’s a compliment?

 

Slowly, Shu shakes his head. “It’s…just strange, I feel like I haven’t really been alive until now.”

 

“Shit,” Eichi says with a ragged little laugh, which quickly threatens to turn into a coughing fit. He finally forces himself to sit up, looking dazedly around for his pants, which he finally drags over, and fishes his inhaler out of. He takes a hit, and breathes deep for a moment, shutting his eyes. “I swear,” he finally says, “that I’m better than this. You, uh. You took me off-guard.”

 

“Nn, you’re plenty good at it,” Shu says, feeling warm and luxurious, toes wriggling in the air. “Ah, I suppose we should leave, shouldn’t we? Ugh, this is so unsanitary, I can’t believe I thought this was an acceptable location.”

 

Shu is either screwing with him, or _honestly_ sort of freaky good at this. Virgins do not like having sex with him, and _no one_ wants his dick unless he’s at least had three fingers somewhere first—and even then, it’s questionable. Whatever, Eichi swiftly decides, stuffing his inhaler away. He’ll take it. “I have a hotel,” he blurts out without thinking. “We could meet there.”

 

Shu blinks, frowning vaguely. “Is it the one in 3-chome? That’s close, isn’t it?” Not that he’s looked up plenty of Tenshouin properties in the past.

 

“Mm, that’s the one.” Eichi gingerly shifts back, hissing when he finally, completely separates their bodies. “You know, for hating me so much, you sure have a strange amount of knowledge about me and my family.”

 

“It comes with the hate,” Shu says, without a hint of artifice. “Zofu talks about them so often, mm.” He stands gingerly, face burning as he collects his clothes, wishing that more than anything, he could have a shower right now.

 

“ _Why?_ ” Eichi exasperatedly asks, tugging his shirt down and briefly closing his eyes at the sting that follows. Ah. That’s just how his back is going to feel, he supposes. “Believe it or not, I’ve been fairly active in my family’s social circles even while I’ve been dying—they can’t snub you if you don’t show up to _be_ snubbed. And even with that, it never bothered you until high school.”

 

This is treading into territory Shu had really wanted to avoid, but, well, he’s the one who’d initiated this. He shrugs awkwardly, tugging up his pants, then toeing on his shoes. “That’s when I found out about our family history. About your great-grandfather, Seikichi.”

 

“Who?” Eichi wearily says, rolling his eyes as he yanks his own pants back on. “What, did he win a chess game against your great-grandfather or something? Or was he the one that was half? I don’t remember, I don’t care.”

 

Shu freezes, turning to stare at Eichi. “You mean…you really didn’t know?” he asks, not sure whether that’s better or not. “I thought—they would have told you, the way my family did…”

 

“Now you’re leaving me deliberately in suspense. You know my family doesn’t talk, right? We all hate each other, that’s how we survive, leeching off of the vile hate-energy seeping off of one another.”

 

Shu stares for another long minute, as if deciding whether Eichi is telling the truth, then finally conceding that he probably is, because he’s not smart enough to be a good liar. “God. I’d tell you just to ask him, but if you really don’t talk…” He tucks his hair into place, and starts buttoning up his shirt. “Seikichi swindled my great-grandfather out of his inheritance. Ten billion yen of it. They were cousins, you know. That’s when the Itsuki house began its decline.”

 

“…Wait, you’re serious?” Eichi manages with a startled little laugh, blinking over at Shu. “Wow. No, they never told me that. I just heard things about how bad the Itsuki family is with money, always spending it on frivolous things. That _does_ sound like my family, I have to agree. They’re not exactly an honorable sort.”

 

“It was theft,” Shu says, trying not to imagine all the time they could have spent fucking until now, straightening all of his ruffles. “They were supposed to split their inheritance 50/50, but Seikichi took it to court, then paid the judge to rule in his favor, and took not just the money, but their assets as well.” He swallows, looking down as he adjusts himself. “You just seemed like one more of them.”

 

“That’s what you’ve thought about me this whole time?” It makes sense why Shu would suddenly drop him if that’s the case, but it doesn’t bother him any less. “You know, I hadn’t even _done_ anything to you when you decided to hate me as a first year. That was a very self-fulfilling prophecy that _you_ set up.”

 

Shu shrugs, tucking the last of his ruffles into place in what he thinks is a satisfactory fashion. “I haven’t always lived life with the goal of making things easier on myself. And…well, I was young. And the way you reacted made me think I was right about you.”

 

“I thought you were a gross, two-timing jerk that replaced me because I got tall.”

 

Shu sniffs, standing by the door, leaning back against the wall. “Idiot. You look better that way, your legs are about a mile long. It’s highly attractive and suits you perfectly.”

 

Eichi stares at him for a moment before he hauls himself to his feet, and fumbles for his phone to shove into Shu’s direction. “You _better_ give me your number.”

 

Shu narrows his eyes at the threat, but can’t deny that it sends a shiver down his back. Delicately, he plucks the phone from Eichi’s fingers, then enters his number, then texts himself. “There, now I’ve got yours, too. Ah…” He hesitates, then adds, “I don’t think…anyone should know about this.”

 

“You must really think I’m an idiot.” Eichi tucks his phone away. “No one needs to know. My family would have some choice words, and I don’t want to hear them.”

 

“I…would be disowned,” Shu admits, ruffling a hand back through his hair. “At least. Mm, let’s not talk about this, take me to your hotel. I assume you have masks?”

 

“Sure, but I’m the one walking into my own hotel, they’ll all know it’s me, anyway,” Eichi says with a shrug. “Let’s just arrive separately. I’ll get there first, and text you the room number to come up to.” He pauses, eyeing Shu up and down. “You’re serious about this. This isn’t…you’re not just staging some elaborate plan to ruin my life? I mean, good luck, I’m good at that on my own, but I figured I’d check.”

 

Shu snorts, the mood lightened so much for him that he actually brings a hand to his mouth, covering a real smile. “Yes, my master plan involves losing my virginity on the floor of a practice room.”

 

“Listen, you go hard! I don’t know what you’re thinking!” Eichi huffs, smoothing his hair in the mirror. “I can’t believe you’re a virgin. I thought Sakuma-san would’ve eaten you alive by now at _least_.”

 

That makes an unhappy little frown appear on Shu’s face, and he shakes his head, just once, sharply. “No. That never…happened. You go first, I’ll follow in five minutes.”

 

“You’re so moody.” Eichi checks his phone one last time, and gives Shu’s ass a smack on the way to the door. “If you stand me up, I’ll remember it, by the way.”

 

Shu squeaks, face burning, and sits heavily down in a chair. “Don’t worry. I’ll give you something else to remember about today.”

 

 _This is probably—no, definitely fake._ Eichi decides that to avoid getting his hopes up, assuming literally everything to do with this is just one elaborate fever dream. Maybe he’s overworking himself. It wouldn’t be the first time he’s hallucinated.

 

His driver arrives promptly, and at least asking to be brought to the hotel isn’t unusual. More unusual is arriving looking like a student, which…ah, he’ll be yelled at that, that won’t do, so changing the moment after he arrives is quintessential.

 

**To: Itsuki Shu**

**/o/ sorry i’m running behind a bit, i had to take care of some things. it’s room 444, i left a key at the desk for you and i’ll meet you in a second**

 

Having any kind of a normal conversation with Shu that doesn’t involve taunting him or teasing him is surreal. Did they seriously have sex? Did Shu _initiate_ and give him a blowjob? Honestly—what the fuck.

 

**To: Tenshouin**

**That gave me an idea. I’ll be a few minutes late as well.**

 

**To: Tenshouin**

**Is there not a bakery near that hotel? I would not be unhappy if you procured a croissant. Nourishment is paramount.**

 

It’s nearly forty-five minutes later that there’s finally a knock on room 444, and Itsuki Shu stands outside, looking quite different from before, in a black suit and tie, wearing a paper mask.

 

Eichi, convinced that he’s been stood up by this point, and decidedly grumpy about it, opens up the door and fails at not pouting. “Your croissants are probably cold now. Ugggh, you took way too long, I had to do _work_ while I waited.”

 

He steps back to let Shu inside all the same, no matter his sulking. He himself is dressed to look the part of an accomplished hotelier, with a perfectly fitted wool suit and silk tie. “Whatever. At least you showed.”

 

Shu looks at him critically for a moment, trying to calm the nervous thudding in his heart at the idea that he’s really _here_ , they’re really _doing this_. “That’s a good suit,” he says finally. “I had to go home to get mine.” And something else, but saying that right now would be telling, rather than showing, and he does believe in good narrative principles. “Also, I thought arriving in an easily-recognizable school uniform would be imprudent.”

 

“They would probably just think you’re a new fine recruit or something; it’s not the first time I’ve held a meeting around here.” Also, Tori likes the pool, but that’s unimportant. Eichi hesitates, then reaches out, annoyed that he’s suddenly unsure and needing to prove that he _isn’t_ by grabbing Shu’s tie and tugging him closer. “How long do you get to stay before your family decides it’s too late?”

 

Shu cocks his head, trying to think that sentence over, before his eyes widen in realization. He steps closer, running an appreciative finger down Eichi’s lapels, and murmuring, “I forget you don’t know my family very well. Time is not an issue. I can stay…until I’m satisfied.” And with that, he tugs Eichi hard towards him, though his mouth is gentle when it meets Eichi’s lips.

 

 _Am_ I _the one with a curfew and not Itsuki Shu, what the fuck?_ Eichi crossly thinks for a moment—but that’s before Shu’s mouth is on his again, and any other thoughts decidedly fly out the window.

 

His hands decide Shu’s slim waist is a far better resting point, especially when it’s easier to grab him there and shove him back against the door. Eichi is fairly certain he can still taste himself on Shu’s mouth, a fact that makes him shudder and kiss him harder with a thigh shoving between Shu’s. “I’m not interested in your family,” he breathes. “I’m just interested in you.”

 

Shu gasps, clinging desperately to Eichi as he’s shoved, both to keep himself upright and because he just _wants_ so badly he feels as if he’ll die from it. “Eichi,” he breathes, eyes cloudy with lust, wrapping a slender leg around Eichi’s waist to yank him in closer. In that position, it’s far easier to feel the tug and rub of the fine lace and strings under his clothes, and just that secret knowledge makes his cock ache with sudden hardness. “You…ah, bastard, I meant to take it slow this time, you’re so—“

 

“You’re the one saying my name like that, what else am I supposed to do?” Eichi groans, yanking Shu’s tie loose to better get at his neck, his mouth fastening to the long arc of it with a pointed suck. He grinds closer, and his fingers drag down, curling around Shu’s hip—and feels an odd texture underneath that makes him pause. “Are you—fuck.” He abruptly shoves a hand down the back of Shu’s trousers, and lace glides against his fingers, taking his breath away. “You’re _trying_ to kill me.”

 

Shu’s face burns, but he refuses to look away, no matter that every part of him is screaming how embarrassed he is, how he shouldn’t have worn this, how Eichi will somehow tell everyone just to humiliate him. He ignores that, and how much harder it makes him to think of that happening, for some reason. “I, I made it myself,” he stammers, unable to think of a better response. “I thought…I was unprepared last time, so this time…oh, but I made you _wait_ , so it’s unforgivable, I won’t bother next time—“

 

Kissing Shu hard to shut him up is _actually_ Eichi’s new favorite thing, especially because it works so beautifully every single time. He grabs one of Shu’s hands, shoving it down between his legs, to the achingly hard line of his cock straining against tailored wool, and breathes hotly into his ear, “Do you _think_ I care about having to wait now?”

 

Shu’s mouth goes abruptly dry, and his knees feel weak, hand curling hungrily over that hot length through fine fabric. “Give it to me,” he mumbles, feeling like the worst kind of pervert, like a mindless addict that’s only just discovered a favorite drug.

 

Eichi mouths a wet, sucking kiss to the side of Shu’s neck a last time before pulling back, dragging Shu with him towards the bed. “All of this, off,” he breathlessly orders, his face flushed with overeagerness as he hurries Shu along, helping him out of his suit jacket. “I wanna see.”

 

With a sudden burst of strength, Shu shoves Eichi back onto the bed, stepping back himself. “Hands off,” he instructs. “Disrobing like this is an art. Sit on your hands, if you must, and appreciate this properly.” With that, he slowly unbuttons his blazer, easing it off of his shoulders with a dancer’s grace, then starts unbuttoning his crisp white shirt, one button at a time, revealing only tantalizing glimpses of deep red lingerie.

 

Sitting on his hands is _indeed_ what Eichi has to do, because the sight of Shu stripping off his clothes and revealing something so completely scandalous is enough to make him dizzy. His cock is hard enough that he can hear the thundering of blood in his ears, and he swallows down a whine, feeling very much like a dog that’s been tethered and forced to behave. “How much money do I have to give you,” he hears himself say, “to have you make more of that, and wear it every single day to school.”

 

“I—“ Shu swallows, hands faltering for a moment. He may have rehearsed this a hundred times, but he’d never anticipated _that_ response, or that it would make him quite so hard. He arches an eyebrow, intrigued. “Every day? Mm, it would have to be some kind of daily fee, wouldn’t it? Not that I’m some sort of…well…” The shirt comes off, revealing an elegant bustier, accented with boning and lace, and he slowly starts on the trousers.

 

“Prostitute?” Eichi sweetly provides, glad that his voice doesn’t hiccup too much when he says it. His fingers twitch with the urge to touch, and he shuts his eyes briefly to regain some semblance of control. “You…ah…you’re certainly expensive. I can tell just by looking at you.”

 

There’s no reason, Shu thinks, that such words should make him feel as if someone’s shooting adrenaline directly into his veins. His fingers miss at threading a button through a buttonhole, for the first time that he can ever remember. “Ah,” he stammers, looking anywhere but at Eichi’s face, swallowing hard. “Y-yes, apparently I like that. How much should it…do you know?” He’s not sure whether he likes it better if Eichi knows exactly how much a prostitute costs, or whether he has no idea.

 

Eichi has no idea, but he doesn’t let that show on his face. “Expensive boys like you? Mm…a million a session, I think?” That’s enough that he’d actually notice cutting that check, at any rate, and that makes his cock even harder. He swallows hard, and reaches up to loosen his tie. “And if I’m paying for such nice lingerie…of course, I’ll give you extra.”

 

“It should be a million and a half,” Shu says firmly, thumbing open his trousers and shoving them down, revealing the lacy panties that _must_ complement the ensemble. Red flashes against the pale of his skin, and he leaves his trousers on the ground with his shoes, standing in just lingerie. Then he cocks his chin up, and steps forward, climbing up to straddle Eichi’s hips, gaze burning. “So….honored customer…what did you want?” It’s actually easier this way, he realizes. This way, he doesn’t care about the obligations of family, or social structure. He can just be some nameless prostitute, purchased for an evening.

 

Eichi forgets words for a moment in favor of letting his hands drag down Shu’s back, skimming the lines of lace and boning before sliding down, curling around his ass, squeezing once before his fingers slide underneath that red lace to let it snap gently back against his skin. He’s never thought about lingerie for any extended period of time, but now…now he’s going to start. “Ride me,” he manages to rasp. “I want…to see all of this, as much as possible.”

 

Shu’s thighs tense, and he shoves back against Eichi’s hands, eyes fluttering at the contact. “Your hands…your hands are so nice,” he murmurs, leaning forward to rest his own hands on Eichi’s chest. “I think about them, ah, all the time, I’m—Nnh, I mean, I’m a stranger, I just want you to fill me up, I can’t stop thinking about it—“

 

“Pick one, I’m getting whiplash,” Eichi groans, giving Shu’s ass another squeeze before he reaches between them to yank at the buckle of his belt. “I’ll be in character if you want, but mostly I just wanna be in you—you have the _best_ ass, I always used to stare at it, I hope you know that.”

 

“Character later,” Shu groans, losing the thread of who he’s supposed to be when he can just yank at Eichi’s belt, tossing it back over his shoulder. That hard bulge under him is intoxicating—he can _feel_ it, and now that he knows what it feels like inside of him, it makes him nearly frantic, yanking at Eichi’s trousers with none of his usual cool demeanor. “Get this in me now.”

 

“Okay, _okay_ , hold on,” Eichi pants out, hurriedly slinging an arm to the side of the bed, where he _fortunately_ was thoughtful enough to set a bottle of lube before Shu arrived. Shu’s hands pawing and grabbing at him make his brain shut off, and freeing his cock takes his breath away when Shu’s pretty, long fingers even remotely touch him. “Do you want me to finger you this time, or—no, of course you don’t, fuck it,” he mutters, upending the bottle of lube to pour a generous amount in his hand, slicking his cock with a shuddering breath. “Come here,” he orders, pulling Shu deeper into his lap with one hand, his fingers simply shoving those panties out of the way to get at his hole. “I bet…you’re still slick inside from before, aren’t you.”

 

“…No,” Shu admits, looking down. “I, ah, cleaned up when I went home…” Inside and out, now that he’s _prepared_ this time. “Mm, but that’s better, right? Now I’m all yours to mess up.” _Like I should always have been._ “Nnh, Eichi, I’m—this is embarrassing, but it’s—I wanted it to be you…”

 

“Fuck,” Eichi mutters, licking his lips as he can’t resist letting his lube-slick fingers drag up to that hole. One slips inside so easily that he shivers, his cheeks flushing further. “Don’t tell me something like that,” he says with a ragged little laugh. “Or I’ll go out of my way to make sure no one else gets to have you.”

 

Shu’s eyes flutter, suddenly heavy and hungry. “I’m…good, keep me to yourself,” he murmurs, then loses his train of thought entirely, slumping down on Eichi’s chest, pushing back onto Eichi’s fingers. His toes curl, and he bites his lip, squeezing down on Eichi’s finger. “Nnh, please, more, it feels good there…”

 

Eichi needs no further encouragement than that, and immediately lets a second finger join the first, letting them slide in deep. He turns his head to press his mouth to Shu’s throat before he bites down gently, then sucks, reveling in the fact that he’s leaving marks and not being _scolded_ for it—if anyone would, it should be Itsuki Shu, right? “You’re way too good at this, for a virgin,” he breathes, spreading his fingers further apart. “Guess that means you were meant for my cock, huh?”

 

“I—ah, it’s not like I don’t—“ Shu’s thighs tremble, and he spreads them further, absently reaching up to rub at one of his own nipples, sending sparks through him. “Ah, ah, you know how much I like to—practice before a performance—“

 

“Do you imagine it’s me? Fucking you?” Eichi _has_ to know now. The idea of Shu curled up in bed, flushed and trembling and fingering himself in the dark of his room—that makes his breath hiccup, and his fingers shove in deep, curling directly against his prostate.

 

Shu lets out a yelp, and his cock shivers and jerks, a wet spot appearing on the front of the lacy red panties. “It—ahhh—that’s something that’s—ah, careful, I’ll—“

 

The truth is, his only answer is yes. “N-not always,” he finally admits, “but…nnh, a lot of the time, I think it’s you…more, more, give me—it’s better at this angle—“

 

“It’s fine if you come, I’ll just make you do it again.” Eichi’s confident in that much for _sure_ , especially what with how Shu is already a shivering mess. “That should give you more fantasy fuel, right~?” he lowly teases, curling his fingers once more before easing them out, and pulling Shu into a better position to get his cock inside instead. “The thought that I can just keep making you come…mm, arch your back, you’re so pretty, I wanna watch you sink down on it…”

 

“Want it,” Shu groans mindlessly, reaching down to grab Eichi’s cock, marveling at how beautifully thick and long it feels in his hand, knowing how obscenely thick it fills him inside now, riding high on the memory. He rises up, arching his back as requested and sinks down, feeling the head breach his tight hole. It steals his breath, and he lets out a whine. “A-ah…it’s too big, there’s no way it was this big last time, I would have died—“

 

Eichi’s hands slide around Shu’s hips, gripping tightly, steadying him, then giving up and tugging him down as he rocks up, unable to help himself when he’s _so_ hard. “It’s—just the angle, it’s as big as it was before,” he pants out, his eyes lidded as he watches the way Shu trembles. “You’re being so good, but if you don’t hurry up, I’m gonna hold you down and shove it in.”

 

“Th-that one,” Shu says immediately, folding nearly in half so his head can thunk down on Eichi’s chest. It’s far too much, and he reaches back mindlessly, grabbing at his own ass to try and spread his hole wider. “Just—do it, so I don’t have to think about it, it’s better when you just—do what you want—“

 

Eichi huffs out a breath of effort, and promptly flips Shu onto his back, pinning him down onto the bed with one hand around his throat. “Then hold still,” he groans, sliding up between Shu’s spread legs, hiking one of them up and over his shoulder as he bends forward. Like this, it’s _much_ easier just to shove in, and he does with one long, hard thrust, panting out a harsh breath against Shu’s hair as he leans over him. “T-there—that’s better, right? Fuck, Shu…” Eichi fumbles for balance, and drags his hand down to one of his nipples, pinching and pulling.

 

Shu’s back arches in a dramatic bow, as his legs tremble, pinned in place by the hard muscle of Eichi’s body. He tries to think, tries to say something, but all that comes out is a series of squeals, yelps, and finally a low groan when Eichi sinks in the rest of the way. _Where he belongs_ , his mind supplies, and he pants in appreciation, hands clawing at Eichi’s back. “Don’t ever pull out,” he breathes, voice almost a growl.

 

“I won’t,” Eichi promises, barely pulling out only to grind back in, savoring being _inside_ of Shu again more than anything else. His fingers drag down over the red lace clinging to Shu’s skin, thumbing over a nipple again just to feel how Shu twitches every single time. “You’re…mnn…you really are perfect, aren’t you?”

 

In his jacket pocket, he feels the tell-tale buzz of his phone ringing, and Eichi leans back, pulling it out with shaking fingers. Declining the call—it’s his butler, hilariously, undoubtedly _looking_ for him—he promptly switches to his camera instead. “Don’t stop making those pretty faces.”

 

Humiliation courses through Shu’s body, and he immediately brings up a hand, trying to shield his face from the camera. That won’t hide much, he knows, but the sound of the shutter clicking makes his cock pulse, and he arches back one time too many, forcing that blunt cock against that perfect spot deep inside. That’s too much, and he drops his hand, mindlessly grabbing at Eichi’s rumpled clothes, body trembling and spasming when he comes around Eichi’s cock, ruining the lovely lace.

 

It turns out, Shu trembling around his dick is more than enough to set him off again. Watching him come through the lens of his phone camera—knowing that he _has_ those photos now—that makes Eichi shudder, dropping his phone onto the bed next to Shu as his hands brace next to him instead, using that as leverage to fuck in hard, through every spasm and twitch around his cock.

 

He comes with a low, ragged groan, shoved in as deep as he can be, his cock pulsing and filling Shu with every drop. “Feel better now?” he sighs, reaching a hand up to push Shu’s sweaty hair out of his face. “You’re nice and full.”

 

Does he feel better?

 

Shu wonders. He’s trembling, shaky, aching, stuffed, over-full and cramping from it, delicate parts of him stinging and throbbing in pain. “…Yes,” he finally says, nuzzling down into Eichi’s neck, gone entirely boneless. “Much better, don’t pull out.”

 

“Got it,” Eichi sighs, slumping forward. His fingers idly trace over the lace sticking to Shu’s skin, plucking slowly at it. “You should make yourself a corset that I can yank on when I fuck you.”

 

Shu lets out a groan. “Is that supposed to kill me? Because you’re going to kill me with that.”

 

“You already killed me by wearing this stuff in the first place,” Eichi bemoans, burying his face down into Shu’s neck. “Pleeeeease keep wearing it, it makes me wanna eat all of you…”

 

“If you think,” Shu breathes, taking the time to sniff at Eichi’s hair, “that this is my only set, or even my most risque set…I look forward to disappointing you.”

 

“I’m gonna die. This is how I die, not Jonathan.”

 

“This is clearly better,” Shu says decidedly. He drags a finger down Eichi’s arm, and smiles. “Your skin is so soft, I’m going to touch it a lot…as soon as I can move.”

 

“Do you want a bath or something?” Eichi languidly asks, flopping down a bit more when holding up his weight sounds silly. “If you say no, I’m just gonna start licking you clean.”

 

“F-fool,” Shu whispers, grabbing a blanket and tugging it over both of them. “Then I’d need to bathe after that, if there’s saliva all over me. Think it through next time.”

 

“Then we get the best of both worlds. _And_ I get a taste.” Eichi beams, snuggling down. “I’ll teach you how to give the best blowjobs in the world later, though I’m already far from disappointed.”

 

“I _hate_ not being the best at something. Show me the best, so I can quickly surpass it.” Shu is confident that he can. “I’ve trained out my pharyngeal reflex.”

 

“…That’s your gag reflex, right? Hot. Same. We’re about the same height, we could totally sixty-nine or something.”

 

“It’s the pressure-induced gag reflex,” Shu corrects. “The one triggered by unpleasant food smells, unfortunately, is still quite alive in me.” He blinks, then recalls, “Did you say you had croissants?”

 

“Uh huh, but retrieving them means I have to get up, and you’re gonna be a mess the second I pull out.”

 

Shu ponders that for a minute, then decides, “They’re already cold, they can wait a bit longer. I’m quite content being full for the moment.”

 

Eichi fumbles for his phone, and checks the time. “For reference, you’ve got about an hour of me left before my butler tracks me down and drags me back home. I know, lame.”

 

Shu sighs. “That’s about as long as I have before Kagehira calls Kiryuu into combing the streets for me, as well. Those who love us are quite an odd bunch. How many more times can you go in one hour?”

 

“No clue,” Eichi admits brightly. “I’ve never been allowed to do it more than once. We can find out, though!”

 

“I do like a challenge.” Shu smiles, then shifts, pushing himself up on his elbows to look down at Eichi. “So. Somehow we really became the secret lovers we used to talk about.”

 

“Somehow.” There’s no point in bringing up the elephant in the room at this point, is there? _I ruined your life, and you’re still smiling at me. That’s new._ “And you’re…fine with that,” Eichi settles upon, sitting back enough to shed his suit jacket and tug off his tie, unable to handle the stifling weight of it when he’s so sweaty. “Obviously.”

 

Shu takes the opportunity to run his fingers down Eichi’s chest, enjoying the play of skin over muscle. “It _is_ what I’ve fantasized about for years,” he says dryly. “I’ll deal with the consequences of this later, don’t bring them up just yet.”

 

“I can’t believe you didn’t act on it before now if you were so into me,” Eichi huffs, half-heartedly tweaking one of Shu’s nipples. “You tormented me for years.”

 

Shu squeaks, then contracts on impulse, which forcibly disconnects him from Eichi, a movement that makes him whimper in the sudden sting of it. “A-ahh, that’s bad, that hurts, I don’t like that at _all_ , who’s being tormented now?”

 

“You brought that entirely on yourself,” Eichi says with a little roll of his eyes, giving one of Shu’s thighs a light slap. “Roll over and I’ll kiss it better.”

 

Shu rolls over on impulse, then blinks. “Wait. You’ll lick what better?”

 

“Wow, you actually did it,” Eichi says with a laugh, and promptly tugs the sticky panties down, tossing them aside once he frees them from Shu’s legs. “Your hole, obviously. What did you think?”

 

“W-w-w-wait! You can’t—that’s disgusting, even you wouldn’t—“

 

Eichi rolls his eyes and grabs Shu by the thighs, holding him still as he leans forward, the first, flat lap of his tongue trailing up the back of Shu’s thigh, licking up some of his own come that had dripped out already. “If you don’t hold still, I won’t be able to clean you up properly.”

 

The next words that come from Shu’s mouth aren’t real words, just unintelligible shrieks and squeals. His legs kick a bit, pinned down by Eichi’s body, but they’re not the kicks of a strong young man who really wants to dislodge someone on top of him. “I—you _brute_ , you’re so vulgar, ahhh, you’re going to pay extra for this!”

 

“Fine. An extra five hundred thousand, maybe? That sounds appropriate.”

 

Shu squealing and squirming and insulting him does enough for him already, but a chance to actually do as he’s threatened makes Eichi shiver down to his toes. His tongue drags over Shu’s slick hole, lapping at what has already dripped out before delving inside, methodically licking him clean.

 

The second it stops feeling weird and starts feeling _incredible_ , Shu’s protests grow tenfold. How dare this feel good? How dare Eichi try to get him addicted to something even worse than his cock? “I’m going to _kill_ you for this,” he whimpers, fingers sinking into the bedsheets as his thighs part. “If you—if you make me come from this, I’ll—“

 

Eichi doesn’t pull back—instead, his fingers splay against Shu’s thighs, easing them even further apart, as his tongue licks and strokes, thrusting in deliberately even when the slickness of his own come and lube is long gone. If he’s going to do this to anyone, it might as well be Shu—prissy, clean, _neurotic_ Shu, who apparently has the best reactions when there’s a tongue up his ass. Snaking one hand up to pull on one of Shu’s nipples probably will just make it worse (better), and so of _course_ Eichi does it.

 

If he hadn’t already been on his third (fourth? hard to tell at this point) orgasm, Shu is certain that would have done it. He arches, but that just rubs his cock against the bedspread, dragging thick sticky droplets out of it to smear against the fabric. “Eichiiiii,” he groans, already shivering, bucking mindlessly back onto that slick, talented tongue attempting to drive him out of his mind. “A little—a little more, I’m almost—“

 

The _only_ annoying thing about this is that he can’t talk Shu off when his mouth is preoccupied, but oh well—that just means his tongue has to be more active in other ways. His fingers, too, refuse to rest, pulling and twisting that nipple in his grasp with every thrust of his tongue inside. Eichi keeps hold of one of Shu’s legs, holding him still as much as he’s able when Shu squirms and bucks back against him, until he decides he doesn’t particularly care anymore, and just drags Shu back more.

 

Shu had thought, foolishly, that the only thing that hole was good for, besides, the obvious, was as an entry point for something big and thick that can fill the empty spots inside of him. This, though—this attention to the place itself, he’d never have _dreamed_ would have made him squirm around like this, panting and writing and—

 

There’s little that actually spills from him this time, but Shu still cries out, tensing and shuddering as his body convulses, so hard he nearly dislodges Eichi from the backs of his thighs before collapsing into a puddle. “Nnnnnhhhh, Eichi,” he groans, and simply flops facedown, likely never to move again.

 

“Now you’re nice and clean,” Eichi breathlessly says as he pulls back, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. “I made sure of it. Ahh, well,” he amends, reaching around to slide his fingers over Shu’s softening cock, and the mess underneath it. “Maybe not here. Should I clean that up next?”

 

“If you touch me again,” Shu groans, feebly fluttering his fingers without lifting his hands from the bed, “I will, eventually, kill you.”

 

“So that’s a no?” Eichi cheerfully says, deftly flipping Shu over so that he’s flat on his back again and not lying in his own wet spot. “But you look so tasty.”

 

Shu’s eyes are glazed and glassy, mouth slack. “Let me just…be for a moment,” he groans, though he doesn’t move at all. “Then I’ll do whatever you like in return. Nnh, put your arms around me.”

 

Far be it from Eichi to refuse a chance for cuddling. He slithers up, sprawling out next to Shu and slinging his arms around him to pull him close. “You don’t have to do anything. It’s probably done, anyway,” he wryly admits. “At least for a little while. Sorry, my refractory period’s questionable sometimes.”

 

“Mine is rather short, I believe,” Shu murmurs, tucking his head into Eichi’s chest. “Which is quite obnoxious when I don’t have anyone to, ah, appease it. You’ll have to be on call.”

 

“I don’t mind,” Eichi cheerfully says, slinging a leg over Shu’s hips as well. “Even if I’m a bit slower about it, I _am_ quite happy to keep getting you off. See, I’m fun, right?”

 

“Delightful.” Shu says it with a bit of sarcasm, but the praise is genuine, if begrudging. “We’ll have to do this without a time limit, sometime. Or I’ll tie a pretty ribbon around your prick and finish a few times before untying it.”

 

“Umm, if you say that, I’m gonna get hard. Tie me up or something when you do it, I’m perfectly content being your sex toy just as much as I am with throwing you around. Both are good.”

 

Shu smirks. “Good, I was correct in my estimation of what you would like, in this circumstance. That’s nice to know.”

 

“What do you mean, your estimation?” Eichi whines, rolling over to attempt to crush Shu. “I’m not that predictable! I just like what I like!”

 

“I can show you the relevant page from my diary, should you require proof.”

 

“Wooow. You keep a diary? You’re such a girl.”

 

Shu scoffs, as if such a thing is unimaginable. “And you don’t?”

 

“Not a _written_ one. Who has the time? I’m dying, I’d rather spend my time taking over the world.”

 

“Ah. yes. How foolish of me.”

 

The next buzzing sound is Shu’s phone, and he groans, rolling heavily to the side and grabbing his bag. “It’s Kagehira,” he says with no surprise. “If I don’t report in, he’ll call the police, apparently. How bothersome.”

 

“I’m _genuinely_ amazed you aren’t having sex with him,” Eichi bluntly says, sighing as he dislodges himself and starts stripping out of what remains of his sweaty clothes. He can’t present himself looking like this, especially when this is the second shirt today that has a few bloody spots on the back of it from where Shu’s nails have clawed into him.

 

“I—really?” Shu blinks, startled, “Why would you think that? Why would anyone think that?”

 

“…Because he follows you around like a devoted little puppy, and he’s almost exactly the sort of thing you like?”

 

“Don’t be stupid. I like those that are absolutely perfect, and he’s riddled with flaws.”

 

“Ahhh, so you think I’m perfect, then?”

 

“In a physical, visual way, of course.”

 

“Nice. I’ll take it. I don’t expect you to appreciate my personality.” Eichi bats his eyelashes as he leans over Shu, smiling. “I’m going to go shower. You’re welcome to join me, or do you have to leave me right now?”

 

Shu wavers, then shrugs, rolling off of the bed to follow after Eichi. “He can wait a bit longer. The idea of traveling smelling like this…”

 

“Instead of like lilacs?” Not that he knows, specifically, which lotion Shu uses or _anything_ , except that he does, and it’s embarrassingly tucked away in the bathroom already. Shu will probably think of it as something sweet, and that works, even if Eichi has definitely used to to jerk off to more than once and thus, brought it along. “Don’t worry, I’ll wash my mouth out before I kiss you goodbye.”

 

Shu stumbles at that statement, and catches his feet a second later, following after Eichi. “It’s a bit pretentious to call it _goodbye_ , isn’t it? When we’ll see each other in class tomorrow.” And just to get a bit of his own back, he adds, “And you’ll be able to guess what I’m wearing underneath my uniform.”

 

“You’re trying to kill me,” Eichi groans, stumbling into the bathroom and immediately beelining for the shower. “Listen, I know you want me dead most days, but don’t _actually_ kill me, I’m good at that on my own.”

 

“You and Jonathan?” Shu asks sweetly, shedding the last of his lingerie in a sticky pile on the bathroom floor, wrinkling his nose at the fabric. “Ugh, I hope I can salvage that. Why do we make lingerie out of lace when it is so easily ruined?”

 

“For masturbation purposes later,” Eichi mildly offers up, sticking a hand underneath the water to make sure it’s nice and hot before he slides under, only to shriek inhumanly. “Ow, ow, _ow_ , your nails are something else, you know! You did this, my back is a _battle scene_.”

 

“Apologies,” Shu says mildly, not sounding sorry in the slightest. “Well, if it’s so delightful to you, keep this set. I’ve made better since. It’ll give me an excuse to get better.”

 

“I will, thanks,” Eichi huffs, sticking his face underneath the water as he attempts to ignore how his back _burns_ from all those scratches _._ “That prissy lilac soap you like is on the counter. You’re welcome.”

 

“You…found my exact brand of soap by _smell?_ ” Shu asks, incredulous. “How fast did you get that sent here? I mean, thank you, but _honestly_.” He steps under the water, then grits his teeth when it immediately trickles down to some _interesting_ places that he suddenly dreads washing.

 

“…I mean, I _might_ have had it before,” Eichi dismissively says, not looking at Shu. “For reasons that are unimportant.”

 

Shu, for his part, looks utterly lost. “But…you never smell like that,” he says in confusion, picking up the soap and immediately starting to wash Eichi’s back. “But you will now. You’ll have to shower again before we go back to school, or everyone will notice that you smell like me.” He might be enjoying that fantasy, just a little.

 

“What if I just didn’t?” Eichi groans, enduring the attention no matter the sting of soap and slumping forward into the shower wall with a breathy little sigh. “What if I showed up smelling like you and everyone was weirded out and we offered no explanation? No one’s going to think anything happened. We have quite a cover of hatred to work with.”

 

“Clearly, they’ll just believe that you bent to the will of my superior taste at long last,” Shu says with a sniff. “They all know I’d never associate with someone as vulgar as you, obviously. Here, spread your legs, you don’t want any hidden sweaty places.”

 

“God forbid,” Eichi dryly says, but obediently sets his feet further apart to let Shu have at it. “Thanks for being obsessively clean, by the way,” he idly remarks. “Not that I’m squeamish, by any means, but…heh. My doctors have, in so many words, warned me against putting my mouth in interesting places.”

 

“You talk to your _doctors_ about your activities in such…ways?” Shu asks, trying to imagine speaking to the stern-faced medical professional his family sends him to about putting his mouth on a man’s anus.

 

“I mean…not _explicitly_ ,” Eichi hedges, rolling his eyes. “But when you’ve got weird heart and lung infections all the time, they start talking to you about how bacteria can enter in through the _weirdest_ of places, like your gums and stuff. Keito likes to translate that for me as ‘don’t eat ass.’”

 

“You tell _Hasumi_ about that kind of thing?” Shu asks, much more scandalized. “Ugh, promise me you won’t tell him about us, I can’t bear the idea of him being excited about something involving me, that pathetic third-rater.”

 

“He _is_ my best friend, you know,” Eichi defensively sniffs. “I know you don’t care for each other, but, well, I don’t care for some of your friends, either.”

 

“And I won’t tell any of them about this,” Shu says with a shrug. “Extend me the same courtesy.” Especially since Hasumi would enjoy himself, and _his_ friends would call him a traitor and be heartbroken.

 

Eichi’s lips purse. “Fine,” he begrudgingly says. “I won’t tell him. He’s too concerned with what I’m doing with Wataru, anyway. It’s not like he’ll suspect anything.”

 

“Of course he won’t, he has no natural curiosity or intellectual flexibility. Sorry, I just really despise him, his whole life, his talents, and everything he stands for.”

 

“You’re so mean. He’ll make someone an excellent husband, just not me, because he only wants to top.”

 

“See?” Shu says smugly. “No flexibility. This is why he’s no good.” He shrugs, then straightens up, moving to wash Eichi’s chest. “Do you hate being the concave partner, as it were?”

 

Eichi tries to stifle a giggle, fails, and reaches out to flick one of Shu’s nipples in amusement. “How many hookup apps did you look at before you heard that term?” he teases. “No, I don’t. I don’t dislike it at all, actually. _My_ first time was like that and I liked it a lot, I just think I’d be bored doing it all the time, unless…well, uh. It would be boring with Keito, for sure.”

 

“Oh, certainly,” Shu agrees. “But I think anything would be boring with him. Mm, I’m not constitutionally opposed, you know. And the answer is three, all of them were either frightening or upsetting.”

 

Eichi’s eyes slide down, then back up again. “Your dick’s big enough,” he casually says. “I’d let you. Keito’s isn’t, so I’m uninterested. Also, he can’t throw me around unless I really piss him off and that takes a lot of work.”

 

Shu snorts. “What, as if it’s difficult? You weight as much as an anorexic stray cat.”

 

“Wow, that’s a vivid image. You’re strong, you know. Keito can’t even pick me up.”

 

“See? He’s pathetic. Ah, I want to do a Live with Akatsuki now just to make him feel embarrassed, I’ve always wanted to prove how superior I am to him in absolutely every way.”

 

“…If you want something, maybe you should ask nicely,” Eichi idly points out, his eyes lidded. “It’s almost like you’re fucking someone that can make things happen.”

 

“I—“ Shu starts to talk, then falls silent, and hands over the washcloth. Thinking of himself going against Keito is one thing. Thinking of himself and Kagehira going against Akatsuki for real is another, and he purses his lips. “Perhaps another time.”

 

Eichi folds the washcloth up in his hand, squeezing it out. There are at least a dozen things he could say, a dozen ways he could tease or taunt Shu, but it doesn’t exactly appeal at the moment. “Turn around so I can get your back,” he says instead. “Don’t let me forget to give you that check before you leave, by the way.”

 

The thought makes Shu flush, and he nods sharply, turning around. “Don’t think it’s just make believe, I warn you. I _will_ cash it. Because it’ll arouse me.”

 

“Obviously. I wanna see it leave my bank account,” Eichi lightly says, smoothing the washcloth down Shu’s back, washing away lingering traces of sweat. “And I also want to see what you’ll do with it. A new sound system, maybe? A practice room that you book for a change?”

 

“You’ll have to come to our next Live and see,” Shu says smugly. “You can guess at each item you see and wonder which ones are paid for with my body. Doesn’t that sound like a fun game?”

 

“You should wear lingerie underneath your outfit,” Eichi says, the washcloth sliding lower, and cleaning with surprising care between Shu’s cheeks. “So that I can see your panty lines. Ah, that’s a nice image…”

 

Shu bends at the waist, hands braced on the wall, and bites his lip against the sudden sting. “Ah…now that I know it’s allowable, I do plan on teasing you in a myriad of creative ways, you know. Prepare to be brutalized by my tantalizing.”

 

“I can’t wait.” The washcloth slides down the insides of Shu’s thighs. “The more you rile me up, the more likely I am to eat you alive. Mm, but that’s what you want, right? Just make sure you put on a good show first.”

 

Shu casts a look back over his shoulder, one eyebrow raised. “Have you ever been less than impressed with one of my shows, hmm? I am a consummate performer, above anything else. Especially if it has something of a reward at the end.”

 

“If you keep talking about it, I’m going to fuck you again in the shower, and neither of us have time for that,” Eichi says with a smile, leaning in and kissing Shu’s neck. “Because I already can’t watch your performances without getting hard.”

 

“Imagine,” Shu breathes, unable to stop now that he’s having fun, “you’ll actually have an _invitation_ this time, and not have to sneak in the back door like a criminal. Ah, that’s nice, you’re a good kisser.”

 

“Damn, I love being a criminal,” Eichi sighs, a hand snaking around with the washcloth to slide down Shu’s stomach and over his cock, lingering perhaps too long to be considered just _washing._ “Keep complimenting me and I’ll keep doing the same thing,” he murmurs, mouthing another kiss behind Shu’s ear. “I’m like a dog—praise me once and I _will_ keep at it.”

 

With a great force of will, Shu pulls away, blushing up to the tips of his ears. “You said yourself, we don’t have time. I’m clean enough, let’s be done with this so the police don’t come—or worse, your butler.”

 

“Fiiine, fine,” Eichi grumbles, tossing the washcloth aside and turning off the shower. He pulls a towel off the warming rack, handing it to Shu, then grabs one for himself. “Your lotion’s on the counter,” he says, then adds, casually, “I use it to jerk off all the time, which is entirely your fault.”

 

“See?” Shu asks, toweling himself briskly off. “One can be trained to have taste.” He applies the lotion liberally, then throws over his shoulder, just before leaving the bathroom, “I named my largest sex toy after you.”

 

Eichi stares after him, mouth open, before he simply slides to the ground and stays there. It’s safer that way, apparently, when it comes to dealing with Shu.

 


	7. Chapter 7

 

Shu finds himself in a very good mood on the entire way home.

 

At least, most of the way home.

 

Until the enormity of what he’s done confronts him.

 

And he has to pull into an alleyway to be sick, shivering and pale and cold to the touch, feeling as if he’ll be sick over and over again until he collapses.

 

_I touched Tenshouin Eichi. I had sex with Tenshouin Eichi. I put my mouth on—I let him lick my—_

 

The dizziness overwhelms him, and he sinks onto the ground, hugging his knees to his chest, for nearly an hour, until he feels he’s able to stand. He’s too late to brush this off as an accidental lateness, and he should clearly have called or texted Kagehira by now, but it’s too much, too late, he’s done too much, he’s far too late, he’s messed _everything_ up, Kagehira will never want to be in a unit with him, he’s going to be disowned, Kagehira will be in the streets as well because Shu’s parents won’t keep him around if Shu is out and everyone will be able to feel it on him, smell it on him, just _tell_ —

 

He vomits again, and finally manages to suppress his thoughts, long enough to stand and stagger close to home, vaguely hoping that Kiryuu catches sight of him enough to help him home.

 

After innumerable unanswered texts and calls, Mika does what any logical person would do—he considers assembling a search party, consisting entirely of himself.

 

Involving anyone else gets messy, especially when it comes to Shu, which is why he’s the one to duck out the door, huddled into his coat and gnawing on his lip as he thumbs through his phone messages, hoping beyond hope that maybe it’s just not working or refreshing correctly. Shu at least usually tells him to shut up and stop messaging him. Silence, though…

 

Mika barely gets down the street and close to the station before he catches sight of that familiar head of pink hair, however, and he dissolves into relief. “Oshi-san!” he breathes, darting over. “You’re so _late_ , I thought you’d _died_ , I—“

 

But Shu is pale and wan enough to look like death, and trembling, and altogether _not okay_ , so Mika cuts himself off. “Um—“ Gingerly, he reaches out, grabbing for Shu’s arm. “C’mon, Oshi-san, let’s…let’s go home, yeah? Y’look pretty tired…” Maybe if he doesn’t act like it’s weird, Shu won’t freak out.

 

“Don’t touch me,” Shu groans, though he sags pathetically against Mika, stumbling to get his legs under himself. “I just—be careful, you’re so small, I’ll squash you into pieces.” The relief of seeing Mika is undercut hard by the idea of Mika seeing him like _this_.

 

Tenshouin and Mika, hands at each other’s throats, and whose side is he on, now? Guilt twists hard in Shu’s gut, and he stumbles again, clinging to Mika to keep from falling over.

 

“You ain’t gonna squish me, it’s fine,” Mika hastily reassures him, looping an arm securely around Shu’s waist to try and better support him as he drags him back towards the house. “Let’s jus’ get y’to bed. Practice is good an’ all, but if you’re makin’ yourself this tired…”

 

Mika is being too kind, too understanding, and Shu bursts into tears, covering his face with a shaking hand. “Mika-chan is a sweet boy,” Mademoiselle says, though even her voice is choked and ragged. “Shu-kun doesn’t deserve you, for sure.”

 

“U-um…” It’s not the first time, by far, that Shu has simply burst into tears around him, and Mika has learned that it’s not really worth fretting over—except this feels different? Maybe? Shu’s being awfully weird out of nowhere, and usually, Mika can pinpoint the cause. “I…I dunno ‘bout that, I think I’m th’ one that doesn’t deserve Oshi-san,” he hedges, steering Shu through the front door. “Let’s jus’…get you up t’your room…and you can lay down an’ relax. You and Mado-nee both, maybe?”

 

Shu nods vaguely, stumbling after Mika, and finally makes it to his room, pulling the covers over himself completely. “Don’t…don’t leave,” he whispers, in his own voice. “H-hold my hand. Kagehira. If you don’t mind.”

 

This is entirely unlike the last time Shu had anything remotely like a mental breakdown, and that _worries_ Mika.

 

Nevertheless, he gingerly slides onto the bed, fumbling underneath the blanket to grab Shu’s hand. It’s chilly, a little shaky, and he squeezes it, biting his lip. “Oshi-san…d’you want me under there, too?” he quietly asks, gently tugging on the edge of the blanket. “Then I can stay in here and no one’ll know.”

 

“You shouldn’t,” Shu whispers. “You have…your own life to live, don’t you? You should go.” But his hand curls around Mika’s, and the corner of the blankets twitches up. And then, because he doesn’t feel any control right now, he blurts out, “I’ve done something terrible, Kagehira. Don’t come under here, I’m compromised.”

 

In Shu-language, that sounds a heck of a lot like ‘please hold me’, and so Mika complies, worming underneath the blankets in short order, his mismatched eyes almost glowing in the dim light as he nudges up underneath Shu’s chin. “I’m never gonna leave,” he firmly says, steadfastly holding onto Shu’s hand. “So you can tell me stuff. Oshi-san, what happened?”

 

“I’m having an affair with Tenshouin.”

 

Oh. He’d thought that would be a lot more difficult to say. It takes all of the strength out of Shu’s body, and he sighs out a disgusted breath, face pressed into the bed. “You can go now, find your terrifying jock friend.”

 

Mika blinks a few times, trying to get his eyes to adjust to the dark room, made darker by being underneath a blanket. Maybe if he can _see_ Shu, he can better process what he just said, because it certainly doesn’t make sense. Maybe his hearing isn’t so great, either? “You…um…what?”

 

“I have made some bad decisions.” The words are muffled, which Shu thinks is for the best, especially since bedding to his face means that he doesn’t have to look at people. “Some tension just…resolved itself. I’m feeling quite guilty, so I’m being very honest with you. I don’t like it, there’s an awful taste in my mouth.”

 

Mika opens his mouth and takes a breath, fully intending to ask what Shu means by _that_ when coupled with the whole having an affair thing, but thinks better of it. “So…you…and that guy…” He fumbles for what to say. “Oshi-san—if he—if he forced you—“ It’s hard to believe it could be any other way, with _Tenshouin._ “I don’t care what he said, or how he threatened you, I’ll go climb in through his stupid rich boy window and fuck him up, I’ll do it right now.”

 

For a very horrible moment, Shu actually considers going along with it. It would be so much easier, if he could shift all of the blame onto Eichi, wouldn’t it? And it is all his fault, in a way, and it’s not like Mika could actually _do_ anything, but…

 

But what kind of person would say something like that, just to spare himself the humiliation?

 

With an effort of will, Shu turns over onto his side, and lays a cool hand on Mika’s face. “Kagehira, listen to what I’m telling you, fool. I initiated this. I’m just having a bit of, ah, regret. And shock.”

 

“No,” Mika bluntly says, staring back at Shu unwaveringly. “That guy’s a freak. He did somethin’. I’m gonna hit him right in the face next time I see him.”

 

“Listen when I tell you things. I’m telling you I’m the one who started it.” At least having something to be defensive about makes Shu feel better than being pathetic about everything.

 

Mika’s eyes narrow skeptically. “…Don’t see how,” he warily retorts. “Y’don’t like him. He’s bad. He’s a _jerk._ ”

 

“I—it’s complicated,” Shu mutters, and plants his face back into the blankets. “Things between us. I haven’t stopped thinking all his methods are despicable.”

 

“…Things?” That sounds like more than an affair, doesn’t it? Mika feels a nervous trickle of sweat drip down the back of his neck. “Oshi-san, I…we both hate him, right? But d’you kinda…I dunno… _like_ him or somethin’? There’s a lotta good lookin’ guys out there, you don’t gotta settle for someone mean…”

 

“Don’t look at me like that,” Shu snaps, though he isn’t looking at Mika. “Well, I could ask you a similar question. Why stay with me when I’m so cruel to you?”

 

“You’re not mean to me. You’re real nice, all th’ time. I’ve heard th’ way he talks t’you, it ain’t the same at _all._ ”

 

“No, of _course_ it’s not,” Shu says with an irritated sigh. “But you must admit that the Narukami boy is far kinder to you. Why not be in his unit?”

 

“Oshi-san,” Mika patiently says, giving Shu’s hand a firm squeeze. “This ain’t about me. I’m pretty happy. But now I’m all worried about you an’ stuff—when did you… _where_ …ahhh, it’s so weird, he’s so bad!” he frets, curling closer as if protectively wrapping all of his limbs around Shu will change something. “Oshi-san, I don’t want him t’be mean to you, if he does it when I’m not around I can’t punch him.”

 

“You,” Shu says, muffled into Mika’s shoulder, “are attempting to hug someone who just ended a fight by giving Tenshouin Eichi a blowjob, rethink your choices.”

 

“Sounds fake,” Mika says with his face buried into Shu’s shoulder. “What the heck, Oshi-san, he’s _scary._ ”

 

“I mean. He was less scary like that.”

 

“Really sounds fake. You’re sure he don’t have you drugged or somethin’?”

 

Shu sighs, and squeezes his eyes shut. “Let me be honest with you. I’ve wanted to do those things with him since I was twelve. We…used to know each other, before things got…complicated.”

 

“…I always thought y’all were real familiar with one another, but…” Mika lifts his head, watching Shu’s face as much as he’s able. “If y’wanted to do that kinda thing…did he, too? Why’s he so mean, then? He’s crazy,” Mika decides, answering his own question.

 

“He’s crazy,” Shu agrees. “Ah, perhaps I am as well. I’d have to be, wouldn’t I? To put up with him for more than a moment. Yes, yes, that’s the only explanation, perhaps I hit my head.”

 

“…so y’gave him a blowjob to break up an argument,” Mika presses instead of letting Shu drop it with just that. “That’s it? I mean, I guess I’ve done some weird things in the heat of th’ moment, too…”

 

“…and then we went to his hotel.” Shu hisses out a breath. “Wait, what weird things have _you_ done?”

 

“Things. Nuh uh, Oshi-san, you ain’t gettin’ out of this one,” Mika growls, throwing his meager weight forward in an attempt to pin Shu on his back and make him _talk_. “What about his, um, hotel?”

 

Shu squirms for a moment, then squeaks when it sends some rather _awful_ feelings through his limbs, forcing him to lay still. “Hmph. Fine. We were there for, I don’t know, a few hours. I’d tell you to use your imagination, but I don’t trust the cobwebs rattling in your empty brain.”

 

Mika squints down at him, frowning. “So it’s jus’…it’s hatesex?” he settles upon, needing to reconcile it to _something_ when it otherwise just bothers him. “Or somethin’ like that?”

 

“What,” Shu grunts, blinking as he looks up, “the _hell_ is hatesex?”

 

“When y’hate someone an’ still wanna have sex with them? And it’s all charged up ‘cause you’re both so _mad_ an’ wanna hit each other.”

 

Shu’s eyes widen, and he nods emphatically. “That, that’s exactly what happened in the practice room! There’s a word for that? Get off of me, I’m bruised like a ripe peach.”

 

Mika’s mouth flaps a few times at that, and he slowly starts to slither away. “I’m gonna go kill ‘im.”

 

“No, no, you misunderstand, he’s far worse off than I am,” Shu grumbles, and when that doesn’t work, he rolls over, simply laying on top of Mika, though far more gingerly. “Hmph, now you’re stuck.”

 

“Nooo, I gotta go kill ‘im, no one’s allowed t’rough you up!” The idea of Tenshouin Eichi being especially cruel and rough with Shu flashes through Mika’s mind, and his lower lip trembles before he slings all four limbs around Shu again. “I don’t…Oshi-san, if he hurts you…I don’t want it t’be somethin’ I could’ve stopped…”

 

“Brat,” Shu says, with an affectionate frown. “Just how delicate do you think your mentor is? You’re going to be very disappointed someday when you go to bed with someone, it’s not as gentle as you might think.”

 

The noise Mika makes is a cross between a low, moody little growl and a huff. “I know what it’s _like_. Doesn’t mean you gotta come back _bruised like a ripe peach_ unless you wanna be, and it’s _that guy_ , he’s the worst, even if you’re strong an’ stuff he’s still the worst.”

 

“Thank you, you’ve completely made me regret telling. you anything,” Shu sighs, feeling another headache starting. “Forget I said anything, you clearly can’t be trusted with such information.”

 

“Noooo. I can be trusted! I’m super trusty!” Mika insists, clinging harder to Shu. “I jus’ really hate him and he was so mean to you and I think that’s _fair_ , Oshi-san!”

 

“Kagehira,” Shu snaps, “if you trust me, listen to what I say when I tell you it was my instigation, my choice, and my actual business, not yours. Or I won’t be inclined to tell you anything ever again!”

 

Mika falls moodily silent before he says, very quietly, “He’s th’ reason y’didn’t get out of bed for months, Oshi-san. I think I’m allowed t’be real worried.” 

 

Shu breathes deeply for a moment, absently reaching out to straighten Mademoiselle’s skirts. “I don’t…have all the answers for you, Kagehira,” he says softly. “I don’t know why I wanted that so badly. Ah. Shit. I really shouldn’t have told you any of this.”

 

“Are y’gonna…do it again?” Mika carefully asks, trying not to sound too judgmental about it, but, _well_. “There are a lot of nicer guys at school, Oshi-san. Scary, still, but less scary than him. They probably even like you.”

 

Shu snorts. “Name one.”

 

“Sakuma-sempai.”

 

“Look, you can’t just name whoever you think of first, Kagehira.”

 

“I’m just thinkin’ of the first one that I know likes you!”

 

That brings a sigh, and Shu tugs the blanket down further. “Name someone who isn’t already dating someone.”

 

“Umm…uhhh…Hibiki-…sempai…? Apparently…?”

 

“Is that _really_ better than Tenshouin, at this point?”

 

“I think so? Uuuuu, _Oshi-san_ , he’s so bad!” Mika bemoans, burying his face down into Shu’s chest. “I don’t want him t’hurt you, I’m gonna be thinkin’ about it all the time…”

 

Shu breaths in, then out, and wraps an arm around Mika’s shoulders. “Just be pleasant for me to confess things to,” he says softly, “and I’ll keep doing it. Otherwise, you’ll know nothing.”

 

Mika worries at his lower lip until he tastes blood. If it’s the difference between knowing and not knowing, that’s _important_ , and scary, if Shu doesn’t tell him things. “…I’m pleasant,” he mumbles, clinging to Shu harder. “And I can give advice, too, if you’re gonna…keep doin’ it.”

 

“Don’t be absurd, Kagehira. What kind of advice could I possibly hope to get from you?” Shu asks, with a dismissive little huff.

 

“Sex advice?” Mika deadpans in spite of himself, and reaches up, poking one of Shu’s prominent hickeys. “How to make these go away faster…”

 

Shu reaches up to slap away Mika’s hand, squeaking. “F-fool! Only give advice about things you know about!”

 

“But I do know about it?” Mika heaves a sigh, letting his hand flop down. “Oshi-saaan, I know a _lot_.”

 

“Reading _hentai_ or whatever does not make you an expert,” Shu says condescendingly. “I’m talking exclusively about real life experience. Kagehira, I’m not a virgin anymore.” He sounds incredibly proud.

 

“Uh huh. And neither am I.”

 

Shu’s eyes go wide, then narrow. “Don’t lie.”

 

“I ain’t,” Mika grumpily says. “What’s the point in lyin’ about it? I know stuff ‘cuz I’ve done stuff.”

 

“But—when?” Shu asks, utterly flabbergasted, and feels some of the wind leak out of his sails. He doesn’t feel nearly so daring and transgressive now.

 

“I dunno, awhile ago? It doesn’t matter much.” Mika flops his head against Shu’s chest pointedly. “So you can tell me stuff an’ I can help. That’s the important thing, yeah?”

 

He might not be the most brave and transgressive, Shu decides, but at least he now has some sort of resource. That’s probably the best possible situation, so he sits up, taking Mika’s hand. “Come up and sew with me, so I don’t have to look at you while we talk?”

 

Mika nods eagerly, taking Shu’s hand and holding tight. This is _much_ better than catatonic Shu, acting like he’s going to pass out or throw up. “Mm, mm. Whatever y’want, Oshi-san.” Even if he _hates this_ , at least now he can keep an eye on _everyone_ involved now that he knows.

 

Once they’re settled onto the floor of the sewing room, Shu busily fixing the end of a hem, he finally asks, “So, I’m starting to question what the average size of a man is. Some advice would not be entirely amiss.”

 

Mika’s eyebrows raise, and thankfully, Shu doesn’t have to see that. “I dunno, I think I’m about normal?” he hedges, haphazardly applying a button eye to a rather ragged looking bear. “So does that mean he’s like…real big or, uh…”

 

“It’s about thirteen, right?” Shu demands, looking down at his tape measure with a scowl. “I looked it up. I thought mine was quite, ah, not-unimpressive, but he’s…oddly large.”

 

“Yours is big,” Mika provides without batting an eye. “So he’s gotta be real big. I mean he’s stupid tall and stuff, but…”

 

“It’s almost twice as big around as the average,” Shu says crossly. “It must be his foreign blood. Yours is what I’d consider normal, correct? Is there really so much…statistical deviation, especially in Japan?”

 

“Nah, guys are pretty much the same, I think. Naru-chan’s is—“ Mika pauses, then decides _fuck it_ , and keeps going. “His is a little bigger than average, but whatever. That’s _real_ big if it’s that thick, what the heck, how do you even…”

 

Shu shrugs helplessly, and tries to put that new information out of his head for a while. “At least we can talk about tall bleach-blonds,” he says under his breath, then shrugs and continues. “Well, everything I’ve read says it’s supposed to hurt quite a lot, the first time.”

 

“I mean, if they’re doin’ it right, it ain’t gotta hurt…my first time sucked, but it doesn’t always gotta. Did he fuck it up?” Mika contemplates cutting it off, if Tenshouin did _._

 

“Mm, no. It was honestly delightful, though I doubt it was to do with his, ah, prowess.” Shu’s eyebrows draw together faintly. “I know he’s just a teenager, but I’m definitely going to remove his skin and replace it with fine linen, Kagehira. I don’t care how brawny he is, no one is allowed to hurt you. Ah, I’m being very adult and sensible about finding out someone else’s hands have been on you, I think. I haven’t fainted once.”

 

“Naru-chan didn’t do nothin’ bad,” Mika grumpily says, stabbing his bear’s face perhaps too hard. “He ain’t never hurt me. Y’should be glad I’m bein’ all nice and stuff about _that guy_ , more than anythin’.”

 

“We’re getting off track,” Shu says hastily, before he can learn anything else that he doesn’t want to. “Anyway, I just wanted to sort of…wonder aloud why it wasn’t bad. It should have been, I think? But it was rather just…good.”

 

Mika tries to push aside his initial desire to be disgusted, and approach this all neutrally. It’s easier said than done, and he grits his teeth for a moment before forcing the image of Tenshouin Eichi pinning Shu to the floor out of his mind. “…Maybe he’s good at it,” he begrudgingly says. “Or maybe he jus’ really turned you on. Or both.”

 

“Hmm. I suppose it’s possible,” Shu muses, then shakes his head. “No, I’m overthinking this. Obviously it’s my skills that were incredible, it’s the only thing that makes sense.”

 

“That’s gotta be it,” Mika agrees, because the alternative is horrifying to think about. “He probably sucks, it’s all you, Oshi-san.”

 

“That must be it,” Shu decides. “I wonder what else is a lie?”

 

“Everything, he’s a total lie, jus’ look at him.”

 

“I mean of my _research_ , Kagehira, since obviously the necessity of stretching beforehand is a lie, or at least quite overstated. Also, deep-throating looked much more difficult in the comics.”

 

Mika stabs himself, and barely even notices. “Um. Oshi-san, you…you definitely got off to a fast start, huh?”

 

Shu smiles to himself, quite satisfied. “I’m a fast learner, of course. Did you expect something else?”

 

“I’m kinda amazed y’gave him a blowjob at all,” Mika admits. “You’re kinda…ehh…squeamish-y.”

 

“Ugh…don’t say it _now_ , Kagehira, the thought is enough to turn my stomach, and I’ve already spent the evening vomiting.”

 

“Did you _swallow?_ ” He has to know. “Oshi-san’s hardcore…”

 

Shu gags a little at the thought, and at the memory. “Ugh, you _would_ be so vulgar as to bring it up, isn’t it the kind of thing that everyone does, but doesn’t speak about?”

 

“Sometimes I don’t, ‘cause he wants to see it on my face or somethin’.”

 

“I—oh.” That’s quite a mental image, both of himself in the situation and (embarrassingly) Kagehira in it, and Shu presses the cold back of his hand against one flaming cheek. “I started such a low conversation, didn’t I? You’re too free, Kagehira.”

 

In a way, it’s definitely a relief to bother Shu with some of these facts about himself as much as this whole _situation_ has ruffled Mika’s feathers. “Nope, I’m jus’ havin’ fun,” he hums, unfazed. “Oshi-san, you’re th’ one playin’ around with someone like _him_. You gotta admit, if either of us is the _free_ one…”

 

“Listen, there are elements of a beautiful forbidden love story to it,” Shu says crossly. “It’s been going on for some years, things just got…rather complicated, I already told you that, the screenplay is going to get a big Hollywood adaptation someday.”

 

“…Don’t your entire family hate him?” Mika quietly asks. “That’s gonna make things real hard, even if you’re just sneakin’ around…”

 

“That’s why it’s _forbidden_ , obviously.” Shu spreads his hands out on his thighs, suddenly feeling them sweat, and looks around, as if someone is going to enter his sanctuary despite all evidence to the contrary. “You mustn’t…say anything, to them. Obviously. It’s—it shows how much I trust you, that you know.”

 

“Like I’d ever say anything!” Mika immediately blurts out, shaking his head firmly. “No way, no way. Oshi-san, your secret’s safe with me—even if I hate ‘im, I ain’t gonna _tell_ no one. It’s none of their business.”

 

Shu tries for a smile, going back to fussing with his garment. “It wouldn’t affect you, of course, I’d make certain you’d be taken care of, even if they disown me. So I hope it isn’t for your own sake that you’re keeping this secret.”

 

“Oshi-san, you’re bein’ dumb.” Maybe that’s super impertinent of him to say, but _someone’s_ gotta say it. “Even though I don’t like ‘im, even if it’s worryin’ me…I won’t say nothin’. I’ll jus’ get involved myself if I think y’need help. Until then, I told you, I’m gonna be good to talk to.”

 

Shu exhales, and nods slowly. “I should not have said that. You may be a failure, but your one redeeming feature is loyalty. See, now, what are you sewing over there?”

 

“Eyeballs.” Mika lifts up his bear. “‘Cause they fell off. It’s okay, Oshi-san, I know when you’re jus’ being silly.”

 

“I am not being silly,” Shu snaps. “And your left eyeball is far elevated over your right eyeball, that can’t be the intended effect, even in bears.”

 

“I think it’s charmin’. He’s lopsided, don’t be racist.”

 

“I’m not racist, I’m Japanese. And lopsided is—well, I’ll have to either hide or accent it with ribbons, of course, but you don’t care that it’s more work for me, do you?”

 

“Oshi-san makes everything cuter when he does it,” Mika hums, thrusting the bear in Shu’s direction. “He needs help. And maybe a dress.”

 

“I do not need help and maybe a—oh. The bear.” Shu looks up finally, and snatches the bear away, abandoning his fussy hem at last. “Very well, fetch me the violet ribbons.”

 

“Maybe Oshi-san needs a dress, too,” Mika flippantly tosses over his shoulder as he rises to his feet to do as he’s told. “Now that he’s bein’ such a rebel.”

 

Shu opens his mouth, then adds, just because he feels like a _rebel_ , today, “I’d prefer to stick with the fancy lingerie,” and smirks.

 

“Make me some, too,” Mika says with a brilliant smile, plopping down the ribbons in front of him. Refusing to think about who Shu is wearing that kind of thing for is best. “Then we can _match_.”

 

Shu hesitates, then tugs Mika down to the floor next to him, petting his hair. “I’m doing maintenance for a moment, just bear with it.”

 

Mika beams up at him, settling down contently as he folds his hands into his lap. “Mm, maintenance is best. Thanks, Oshi-san.” He butts his head against Shu’s hand, and adds quietly, “I might not like it, but I ain’t gonna be mean about it, as long as you’re happy and he ain’t bad.”

 

“Good,” Shu says, just as quietly, as he fusses over Mika’s hair. “Because…well. Not that I care what you think. But if you were really unhappy, well. I can’t promise I wouldn’t modify my behavior somehow.”

 

“I’m still gonna kick his ass if he’s mean for like, two seconds.”

 

“Think about who you’re talking about, fool. It’s his natural state.”

 

“Well, that’s bad. Train him.”

 

“Oh, that’s the plan,” Shu says, smirking. “I can fix anyone, given time and access. Don’t you think so, Kagehira? I think I’m the best at it.”

 

Mika tries not to let his skepticism about training someone like _that guy_ show through onto his face. “Nnh…yeah, you are. Jus’—make sure you keep him on a tight leash, or he’ll be bad again.”

 

“Don’t get ahead of yourself,” Shu says, fingers sliding down Mika’s neck, touching his musculature lightly. “We’ll see if this is…anything. It may not be. If I’m smart, it won’t be.”

 

“…Good.” Mika scoots forward, and firmly butts his face into Shu’s shoulder. “Oshi-san’s the smartest, I know.”

 

“Don’t move during maintenance, fool, do you want to ruin all of my hard work?” Nonetheless, Shu’s next few touches are more affectionate, less businesslike.

 

“Yeah. Then you gotta do it all again.”

 

Shu sighs. “From the top, then. Don’t move this time, or I’ll never get to your knees, and they certainly need my assistance.”

 


	8. Chapter 8

 

Going to class has never quite created such a sense of anticipation before, but then again, Eichi usually hasn’t been fucking _Shu._

 

Not being able to tell even Keito is torture, and he has to sit on his hands throughout the night to not text him. Keeping a straight face when he walks into the classroom and takes a seat is also difficult, especially when Shu sits in front of him (smelling like he always does, like _lilacs_ ). “Good morning, Itsuki-kun,” he hums, leaning in close. At least his harassment of Shu is nothing new, so he can continue being entirely too much in Shu’s space. “Extra ruffles today? _Very_ cute.”

 

Shu reaches up to straighten his ruffles, managing to look entirely affronted. He lifts his chin, lips pursed, and gives Eichi what he thinks is an entirely credible glare. “Refrain from polluting the space with your words, Tenshouin. It’s difficult enough to get through a Wednesday without having to hear you speak.”

 

Then he shifts the jacket draped over the back of his seat, just enough to reveal a small note taped to the wood.

 

**_Check under your desk._ **

 

“Heeeh. But if I talk, you talk, and we all know I like hearing what you have to say.” Eichi beams at him, his eyes flicking down to catch sight of the note, before he casually bends down to do just that. “You should be nicer, you know.”

 

His fingers close around something small and plastic, and Eichi’s eyebrows raise. A remote? To what? Hmm. Eichi turns it over in his hand, contemplating. “Or not. Sometimes, I like it when you’re mean, too.”

 

“If you want to hear me speak,” Shu says loftily, “buy a ticket to one of my Lives. If you can afford one, of course.”

 

Out of the corner of his eye, he sees Eichi pluck the remote from where he’d stashed it, and the tips of his ears flush pink, his thighs pressing together in anticipation. Ah, this was a terrible idea, he knows it is, but the tiny silver plug currently shifting whenever Shu moves is enough to convince him otherwise.

 

“I can afford more than that, trust me,” Eichi murmurs, leaning back into his chair, turning the remote over into his hand. If Shu blushing is any indication, this must be connected to something _interesting_ …so why not test it a little? One flick of the dial up, and Eichi glances up, eyes trained on Shu.

 

Shu had practiced with this device, of course. It would be stupid if he hadn’t, and had wound up being unable to control himself. He’d deliberately chosen one with fairly weak vibrations, so he could at least hold it together during class.

 

Or so he’d thought.

 

He’d never been so turned on during the practice session, and the tiniest stirring inside of him makes him grip the desk suddenly, fingers white-knuckled. “I-I should hope so,” he stammers, trying with all his heart to be calm. “Given how, how flagrantly you toss money around.”

 

Oh. _Oh_. This is bad. Eichi slowly presses a hand over his mouth, glancing up to the ceiling. His fingers around the remote tremble, and he struggles not to just crank it up to high immediately.

 

Well, maybe if he does for just a moment…

 

Eichi turns the dial up, his own breath stuttering. “You would know all about that, wouldn’t you,” he offers quietly, watching a trickle of sweat that runs down the back of Shu’s neck.

 

Shu immediately and completely forgets what they’re talking about. No, no, no, this isn’t right, it feels about twelve times higher than it had when he’d practiced. Obviously, Tenshouin had found out about it somehow and swapped it in with a much more powerful one? Perhaps? He squirms, trying to lessen some of the pressure—of course he’d turn it up as far as he could as fast as he could, the bastard—but nothing words, and holding still feels as if it’s going to actually kill him.

 

And then, in the worst twist of fate possible, Morisawa Chiaki bounds over (does he ever walk anywhere normally?) and plops himself down between Shu and Eichi, beaming widely. “Good morning, friends! Did you sleep well?”

 

Eichi, already flushed and breathing heavier just watching Shu try to hide how he’s squirming, forces a smile for Chiaki. “More or less,” he says, fiddling with the remote in his hand. He turns it down a couple of notches, enough to lull Shu into a false sense of security. “You’re as cheerful as always, Chiaki.”

 

Shu’s feet start to sweat in his shoes, his toes curling under his insteps as he tries to breathe normally. At least it isn’t out of character for him to simply ignore Chiaki.

 

“Thanks, Tenshouin! I wanted to check on you after your trip to the infirmary a couple of days ago, but you look like you’re doing much better now. Ha ha, I’m glad!”

 

“I’m certainly alive for the moment,” Eichi brightly says, and deciding he likes it more when Shu squirms and struggles, dials the vibrator back up. “Ahh…I am feeling a little faint, though…maybe I’m coming back to school too soon after all…”

 

Chiaki’s face falls in concern. “Ah, do you need to go back to the infirmary? I’ll take you, let’s go—oh, Itsuki, do you need to go as well? You look, ah, a bit pale?”

 

“I’m fine,” Shu snaps, feeling sweat soak the back of his collar, his cock straining at the lacy lingerie inside his school uniform pants. “Take him, take him away, get him out of here.”

 

“No, we should _both_ go,” Eichi insists, suddenly flipping the vibrator off. “Or if you’re really fine, Itsuki-kun…well, I guess I’ll just go lie down for awhile, and you can take notes for me.”

 

Shu turns around to snarl, then catches the sudden lack of vibrations, and sight of Eichi’s face. Oh. _Oh_. Slowly, annoyed to be known for being obnoxiously ill again but willing to sacrifice it in the service of what he feels he’s being promised. Yes, the remote was a good idea after all, even if he’ll miss class. “I suppose I should lie down for a moment…”

 

“Great! Here, I’ll carry—“

 

“You can carry my _bag_ ,” Shu says sharply, before Morisawa can be fool enough to try and pick him up.

 

“Chiaki’s such a dashing hero,” Eichi sweetly panders, slowly rising to his feet and picking up his own bag to make sure it stays in _front_ of himself. There’s not really any hiding it if he’s not careful. “We can probably make it ourselves, though, ahaha—we’re awfully used to the infirmary, aren’t we, Itsuki-kun? Shall I carry your bag myself? You look even worse than me today…”

 

“Keep your concern to yourself,” Shu says, then only too-late catches what Eichi is offering. Obviously. Well, he can be forgiven for being distracted, Eichi has been stirring him up inside. “Morisawa, I couldn’t distract from your education. This is better.” He picks up his own bag, then shoves it into Eichi’s hands, striding out in front of both of them.

 

Chiaki wavers for a moment, then shrugs. “Be safe, you two!”

 

Eichi offers a flutter of a wave before quickly stepping off after Shu, offering up a half-hearted, pathetic cough for effect. He casually flips the dial up on the remote again—not all the way this time, but enough that it’s _noticeable_ —and smiles, trotting along at Shu’s heels. “Infirmary buddies again, I suppose? Ah, this is becoming an interesting trend.”

 

Shu stumbles, catching himself on the wall, his toes slipping against the floor. “You—you bastard, I can’t _walk_ like—“

 

He catches sight of a flash of white, and catches Eichi’s wrist. “Sagami-sensei is actually in there,” he hisses, then yanks Eichi into a broom closet instead, shutting the door behind them.

 

Eichi bites down a squeak of surprise, stumbling in after Shu and barely stifling a laugh. “As if he’d stick around when we showed up, we’re too much work,” he says, amused as he slumps back against the wall and drops both of their bags onto the ground. “Cute idea, by the way,” he adds, turning the remote around in his hand. “But the assumption I won’t take advantage of it is a little…”

 

Shu’s eyes droop shut, and he thunks his head against Eichi’s chest, hands dropping to immediately start tugging at Eich’s trousers. “I wanted you to take advantage of it,” he whispers, thrusting a hand inside and curling his fingers around that thick, hardening cock. “And of me. _Now_.”

 

Of all the people to yank him into a broom closet and insist on a quickie, Eichi never thought it would be Shu. His thumb fumbles, dialing up the vibrator again—on accident this time, but maybe that’s better. “We’re never going to go to class again if you keep this up,” Eichi breathes, leaning down to press a kiss to the side of Shu’s neck.

 

“I don’t care,” Shu groans, knees wobbling as he starts to stroke. “I’m—as long as I can get you off, it’s good, right?”

 

 _Holy shit, yes._ That’s the thought that passes through his mind, but as content as Eichi is with Shu’s soft, pretty hands on his cock—why not push it? “Do you really think I’d be satisfied with just a handjob?” he gasps, shoving Shu back to pin him against the door. He turns the lock on it as an afterthought, and tosses the remote aside as he yanks at Shu’s belt. “Let me fuck you right here.”

 

The noise Shu lets out is somewhere between a whimper and a snarl, and he turns around, shoving his trousers down around his ankles, revealing the silvery end of a plug nestled into the cleft of his ass. “I think, ah, I’m as ready as it gets, hmm?”

 

Eichi’s breath hitches, and he reaches down, not hesitating to let a finger slide in aside that plug, spreading Shu wider, feeling how slick he already is and how he clenches and squirms with every vibration. “You certainly feel ready,” he rasps, yanking at his own belt. “What a slut.”

 

“Do something about it.” It sounds more like an order than anything, and Shu spreads his feet as wide as the trousers around his ankles will allow, bending forward and bracing his elbows on the wall. “What, ah…nnh, that feels good—what does a man like you do with someone like, like me?” It’s hard to talk, even to breathe when Eichi starts toying with him, when he’s been thinking about this all day.

 

“Shove a cock in you and leave it there,” Eichi mutters, finally freeing his cock with shaking fingers. He abruptly yanks the plug out, tossing it aside, and lets the head of his cock rub against Shu’s hole, licking his lips when he feels him twitch and shudder. “That’s…ah…what I’m paying for, right?” With a soft grunt of effort, his cock sinks in, pushing past that tight hole, and Eichi wraps an arm tightly around Shu’s waist, holding him still as he leans over him. “After this,” he breathes, “I’m taking you to the student council room. You can just…nhh…sit on my lap and keep it warm while I’m working.”

 

“Until you…get bored with—“

 

Shu loses track of the fantasy. More important is the way Eichi sinks deeply into him, filling an empty space that Shu hadn’t known was inside of him. He slaps a hand over his own mouth, left hand splayed against the wall to keep his balance, helping him push back against that thick cock. “I’m—if you just—“

 

He doesn’t even get the chance to say anything else before his body starts to shake, overwrought and overwhelmed from being played with in class, coming even as he works his way down.

 

“Already?” Eichi says with a ragged little laugh, feeling that tell-tale clench and shudder around his cock as he shoves forward, pinning Shu against the door with the next thrust of his hips. It buries his cock completely inside, and Eichi muffles a panting groan against Shu’s hair, squeezing the arm around his waist tighter to keep Shu against him. “Fuck—you’re so easy,” he sighs, his eyes lidded as he rocks in, barely pulling out with each thrust, taking his time to savor the way Shu feels around him. “Good boy.”

 

“You’d better not—stop—“ Shu gasps, feeling blood pulse in his neck, pleasure crackling and shivering through his body. He refuses to think about how anyone could hear them while walking past, or that he’ll smell like Eichi’s cologne for the rest of the day, or that they simply can’t keep slipping away together, because none of that matters when he’s so _full_. “Hard,” he groans, reaching back to grab Eichi’s tie, yanking it. “Fuck me _hard_.”

 

The noise that leaves Eichi’s throat is something close to a growl, low and throaty as he ruts in, his next thrust flattening Shu to the door. “It’s fine if you choke me,” he breathes against Shu’s ear, a hand pawing up underneath Shu’s blazer and shirt to feel lace wrapped around Shu’s skin, something that nearly stops his breath. The only viable response is to shove in so hard that it forces Shu up onto his toes, all while his fingers pinch at an already hard nipple, pulling each time he sinks in deep. “Fuck… _fuck_ , Shu…”

 

“A-a-ow!” Shu squeaks, raising up on his tiptoes, yanking much harder than he’d intended as Eichi slams into him. “Nnh, bastard, you’re hurting me, that’s so—you’re too fucking _big_ , you know—“ Tears prick in his eyes, but his cock rises, and he doesn’t bother to release his hold on Eichi’s neck.

 

Eichi’s breath escapes as a strangled, rasping groan against Shu’s shoulder, his vision swimming when his tie tightens with each yank of Shu’s hand. “K-keep your voice down,” he rasps, each thrust keeping Shu pinned to the door. “Unless—you _want_ everyone to know—t-that I bought you.”

 

At some point, Shu just gives up. His hands scrabble at the wall, and he hikes up one of his knees, spreading his legs wide to let Eichi have him hard and fast and however he likes, reduced to grunting, pathetic groans. “S-sorry—just—is this better, Sir?” he asks, voice slurred as he tightens up all his muscles, trying to squeeze Eichi’s cock.

 

Telling Shu that he’s _perfect_ is unnecessary. Instead, he shows it by fucking him exactly how he wants—hard, fast, as deep as he possibly can be with each thrust, grinding against that perfect ass. Eichi’s own pulse thuds in his ears, his breath fast and harsh against Shu’s neck, littering bites, kisses there above the sweaty mess of ruffles already there.

 

Shu squeezes down around him, impossibly tight, slick, _hot_ , and Eichi gasps out a ragged, desperate breath when he comes, shoving in deep, filling Shu with pulse after pulse of his cock. “Well worth the money,” he whispers.

 

Shu slowly lowers his leg, sagging back against Eichi’s chest. “Hold me up or set me down,” he breathes, and then his eyes roll back into his head, collapsing in a boneless heap of useless pleasure.

 

Eichi squawks, nearly falling over in the process of trying to hold Shu up, and only then managing to get them both more gracefully to the ground with Shu still in his lap. “Do you always pass out after sex?” he wheezes to himself, flopping backwards to better reach his bag and his inhaler. Belatedly, he remembers to loosen his tie, which is _definitely_ still strangling him. “Fuuuck…ahh…I could die like this…”

 

“We should start only doing it while lying down,” Shu agrees vaguely, turning to nuzzle into Eichi’s neck. “This was a dumb idea, I’m going to get used to it.”

 

“Is it dumb if it ended well?” Eichi brightly asks in-between taking a hit off of his inhaler and remembering how to breathe properly again. “I didn’t even get to see your panties before you took them off.”

 

“They’re in my pants,” Shu says with an implied shrug, too boneless to really move. “I’ll show you later. They’re, ah, reinforced in the front, so it wouldn’t show if I got aroused in class. I planned ahead.”

 

“What’s it like having a dick you can hide?” Eichi bemoans, slowly rolling to the side to better wrap all of his limbs around Shu and cuddle him. It’s not that easy in a cramped broom closet, but he folds up compactly enough. “You’re so hot. I’m gonna eat you.”

 

“I’m available for consumption,” Shu murmurs, tucking his legs up to his chest, then butting back against Eichi. “Very competitive rates, I’m told.”

 

“No, you’re expensive, it’s great.” Eichi breathes in deep as he stuffs his face into Shu’s hair, his eyes fluttering. “I’m going to stay in here all day unless you give me a reason otherwise.”

 

“…Ah…” Shu wracks his mind, then just shuts his eyes. “Maybe if you forgot your checkbook or something. This counts as a housecall, I think. You owe me extra.”

 

“I bet…I could sneak you in through my window or something,” Eichi murmurs, squeezing Shu around the waist. “I wanna do you on my bed.”

 

“As long as you promise to keep me in the way I’ve become accustomed after we’re found out and I become homeless.”

 

“Obviously? I’ll keep you _better_ than you’ve become accustomed.”

 

The more Eichi talks about it, the more real it sounds, and consequently, the less terrifying it sounds. “That includes a room for Kagehira, of course.”

 

“You’re allowed one pet, keep that in mind.” Eichi noses at the back of Shu’s neck, then idly licks at the sweat starting to dry there. “Salty. Mm, I’ll buy a theater for you, too. Or whatever it is you want.”

 

“Obviously a theater. One of us will have to have a real job, once your parents kick us both out.”

 

“My parents won’t kick me out,” Eichi says with a roll of his eyes. “My grandfather _will_ die soon, and then I’m in charge. Everything is signed over to me. If I want to stash you in my house and keep you like a pampered pet, I can.”

 

“Mm. It’s a nice thought, I’ll admit.” Shu frowns at a sound, then extends a foot, finding the source—the plug, still happily buzzing away. “Hmm, good batteries, I like this brand.”

 

“You really shouldn’t give me remotes like that, I’ll misuse them,” Eichi says with a grin, kissing the side of Shu’s neck as he squishes himself close. “Go back to talking about how I’ll buy you a theater. Wataru wants one, too, so I guess I’ll become a _real_ purveyor of the arts.”

 

“Wataru can come play in mine,” Shu says generously. “But we have different aesthetic tastes. Mine is far more Delacroix, his is quite Millais.”

 

“Ehh…I was gonna give you separate ones, but if one theater means I get a threesome…” Eichi’s eyes glaze. “Yeah, I don’t wanna think about that too much, I’ll get hard again.”

 

“Ah…I already want to go wash up,” Shu admits. “I mean, I cleaned before, but…Also, don’t plan threesomes if you’re too cowardly to ask one third on a date.”

 

“Wow, rude.” Eichi pinches Shu’s ass before he pulls away, grimacing at how very stuck together they are. “Ow, ow, that stings. Stop surprising me when I don’t have a ton of lube with me, we’re both gonna start regretting it.”

 

“You want me to stop about as much as I want you to stop fucking me so hard,” Shu says dryly, starting to tug up his trousers. “How am I supposed to pay attention in class now, knowing that you’re behind me?”

 

“You don’t,” Eichi idly suggests, unraveling his tie to fix it properly. “We skip, and fuck in the garden shed.”

 

“Oh, you’re right, that’s a superior opinion.”

 

Eichi beams as he slowly picks himself up, tucking himself back into his pants. “I have a lot of good opinions. You should listen to them more often.”

 

“No, no, most of your opinions are bad, and mine are far better,” Shu assures him, climbing to his feet. “Oh, take a quick look.” He tugs the panties back into place, then turns, showing off both them and the lingerie criss-crossing his chest, tugging up his shirt for a moment.”

 

Eichi pauses in the process of buckling his belt, his mouth gone dry. “Oh.” He takes a slow, creaky step forward, unable to resist reaching out to touch some of the lace that stretches across a very shapely hipbone. “We could just stay here. I can appreciate this in close quarters more.”

 

“I was _going_ to make you wait until after school,” Shu says with a sigh, lowering his shirt again, then tucking it into his trousers. “I didn’t expect how strong my reaction would be when you started adjusting it.”

 

“You can’t tease me too much, I’ll just take what I want,” Eichi cheerfully says, forcing himself to pull his hand away and stoop to pick up the vibrating plug instead. The remote is…somewhere, and after a moment of searching, he manages to find it and turn the thing off. “You’ve got quite a collection, huh.”

 

“Your check paid for that,” Shu informs him with a little smile. He picks up the plug, then slips it into his pocket. “I might put that back in later after cleaning it, who know? I’m slowly building a very classy collection.”

 

“If it means we’re keeping this up, I will pay you until we both die,” Eichi frankly says, straightening his blazer. “I’m holding onto the remote. Just in case.”

 

Shu starts to open the door, then shuts it swiftly, eyes wide, heart pounding. “Hasumi’s out there,” he hisses, and yanks at Eichi’s sleeve. “You go, get him out of here.”

 

“Ah…” Keito is, of course, a problem. “Just…stay put, I’ll see what I can do,” he says, thoughtlessly leaning over to steal a kiss before he dislodges Shu’s arm and slither out of the broom closet as innocently as possible. Easier said than done when his heart is pounding, and he’s thinking back over every stupid thing he’s done in the past twenty minutes. “Oh. Keito. Whoops, I’ve been caught, ahah.”

 

Keito folds his arms, leaning back against the wall. “Indeed. Am I going to have to call your family’s doctor?”

 

“No way! Why would you, that’s mean,” Eichi complains, leaning back against the door with a pout. “I’m fine, just hiding.”

 

“Hiding. That’s what you’re going with.”

 

“Umm…yes?” Eichi bats his eyelashes. “As opposed to?”

 

Keito sighs, and lifts his chin towards the broom closet. “Who’s in there? Morisawa told me you went to the infirmary, but since I just came from there, I figured this was your easiest spot to duck into between those two places.”

 

“Why are you assuming someone’s in there?” Eichi grouses, folding his arms. “You’re so nosy, Keito.”

 

Keito raises an eyebrow. “Oh, all right, I completely believe you. If you’ll forgive me, I need a broom.” He takes one deliberate step towards the broom closet, hand outstretched.

 

“No!” Eichi dives in front of the handle, blocking it. “No, you can’t, it’s…it’s Wataru, okay? And he’s tied up and we definitely just had sex, which I _know_ you want no part in.”

 

Keito stops, but his eyes narrow in suspicion. “Really? I’d think you’d be bragging, haven’t you been obsessed with bagging him for ages?”

 

“I was _waiting_ until you weren’t in such a cranky mood so you’d hate me less about it,” Eichi huffs, glowering at him. “You’ve been insufferable.”

 

“I—I have?” Keito looks concerned, and reaches out to touch Eichi’s cheek. “You’re still really pale. Leave that lunatic in there, I’ll take you to the infirmary for real.”

 

Eichi pouts, folding his arms tightly. On one hand, letting Keito take him to the infirmary means that Shu can escape…but on the other, it means his plans are foiled. Damn it. “Fine, I guess he’s into abandonment play,” he mumbles. “I’m making a note that you’re ruining my fun, though.”

 

“Yes, I’m absolutely awful,” Keito says in a deadpan, taking Eichi’s elbow and leading him away. “How dare I care about you living to the age of nineteen, I’m practically torturing you.”

 

“I’m not even eighteen yet! This is how little you care about me. You’re the worst, I’m not inviting you to my Christmas party now. _And_ I’m not telling you any details about my fun, exciting, _excellent_ sex life.”

 

“First of all, I have no interest whatsoever in going to your stupid Christmas party. Second of all, you made me _plan_ your stupid Christmas party, despite the fact that I have, as previously mentioned, no interest whatsoever in going to your stupid Christmas party. And third, I’m well aware that the second you get bored, you’ll tell me far, far more than I need to know, and I’ll be begging you to stop.”

 

“Wow. Not only do you talk a lot, but you also tell a lot of lies while you’re doing it. That’s my Keito, what a good boy!”

 

“I’m not lying, asshole! You think I really care about your shitty party?”

 

“Yep,” Eichi cheerfully says, draping himself against Keito’s side. “Because you looove me. And you think I’m cute when I’m wearing a Santa hat.”

 

Keito shrugs. “I can always draw a Santa hat on a photo of you if you won’t cooperate.”

 

“Wow, screw you. I’m going back to fuck Wataru, bye.”

 

“No, no, you can’t—“ Keito’s nose twitches when he grabs Eichi’s collar, and he frowns, blinking. “You smell like old lady lotion. No, is that Itsuki’s?”

 

“Is it?” Eichi says with an innocent blink, no matter how his heart decides to start _going_ again. “I mean, he sits right in front of me, and he uses hand lotion as much as a girl.”

 

“And always has,” Keito points out, and sniffs again. “But you’ve never smelled like it before.” A suspicion enters his mind, and he turns suddenly left, heading briskly for class 3-B.

 

“Wh—Keito, hold on a second!” Eichi hastily calls, diving after him and clinging to his arm. “Where are you going? You’re being so weiiiiird, c’mon, take me to the infirmary, I’m dying!”

 

“No, you want to go back to your broom closet, right? Go on, I have an errand to do.” _You lying sack of shit._

 

“Nooo, I’m dying. I want Keito to take care of me, like the old days. Cough, cough, look, totally dying.”

 

“Uh huh. And you have no reason not to want me to stay away from 3-B.” Keito raises an eyebrow. “For such a bastard, you’re a bad liar, Eichi.”

 

“I’m not lying! Go on, then, if you think I’m lying! If Wataru’s there, it’s because he _teleported._ ”

 

“I don’t believe in teleportation! And if it _did_ exist, it wouldn’t be someone like him that has those powers!”

 

“Wrong, he’s the most magical. He can teleport. He can do _anything_. He also can dislocate his limbs in really interesting ways, it comes in handy…”

 

Keito lets out a groan, then turns, facing Eichi. “You have two choices,” he says finally. “Either I check 3-B and that broom closet, proving my hypothesis…or, I’ll take you to the infirmary, and I’ll take care of you, and wait with you until you feel better. And you can even…ugh. Tell me the disgusting shit you’ve been up to that you’re dying to talk about.”

 

Eichi hesitates, then sigh, pouting as he glances aside. “Fine. But you better take real good care of me, and make me tea, and be _nice_ , or I’m not telling you anything.”

 

“I don’t _want_ you to tell me about it,” Keito lies, grousing nonetheless as he steers Eichi back to the infirmary, getting him into the bed closest to the door. “Just get comfortable, I’m making tea. Ugh, Sagami-sensei really should be fired.”

 

“No, I like him. He’s rarely around and doesn’t pay attention.” Eichi collapses down onto the bed with a sigh, trying not to sound too relieved about being off of his feet and failing. Lying down, it turns out, is actually nice, especially after the couple of days that he’s had. “Keito…if that’s shitty box green tea, I’m disowning you.”

 

Keito pauses. “You have something better stashed in here somewhere?” he asks, knowing full well that with Eichi, it’s an option. “Sensei only has that kind, but I don’t think I’d be surprised by now if you had your butler stashed in here.”

 

“Ew, don’t talk about my butler, it makes him show up,” Eichi complains, twisting onto his side and ejecting his shoes off the side of the bed with a swift kick. “Cabinet over the sink, I stuck some good Earl Grey over there. So you really don’t believe that I’m fucking Wataru, huh.”

 

“Not in the slightest,” Keito admits. “It just seems like a total lie. If I’d been ready, I would have been like, ‘Ah, yes, and I’m fucking Tom Cruise.’ Just pretend that I said that, it would have been more funny.”

 

“You’re soo mean.” Eichi’s pout intensifies. “What if I told you I really was, huh? Then you’d have to admit you were being an asshole.”

 

“Only if I believed you. Which, at this point, is pretty far from possible.” Keito pulls down the good Earl Grey, then starts fixing the tea. “Unless you can come up with a convincing narrative about how you two wound up in that position that I’ll believe, right now, without taking the time to think about it.”

 

“He just wanted me sooo badly that he had to teleport into the broom closet and drag me in there with him. Obviously.”

 

“I’m going back to Tom Cruise, did you know he came over last night?” Keito laughs at his own joke, and pours out the kettle into a mug. “Do you know how I really know you’re lying? I mean, besides all the obvious?”

 

“Tom Cruise is short and has too much facial hair for you to like him. But go on, tell me,” Eichi sighs, fluttering a hand. “It’ll help me polish up my skills for later.”

 

“If you _did_ have Wataru in that closet,” Keito says, handing over the mug, “you would have pretended to try and get me in there for a threesome instead of trying to get me away. Wataru sure as hell wouldn’t be embarrassed.”

 

Eichi’s lips purse as he takes the mug, huddling up around it. “I _guess_ ,” he sniffs. “Maybe I wasn’t in the mood to share. Or I was feeling shy about my shibari attempts.”

 

“Sounds fake.” Keito takes a seat on the edge of Eichi’s bed, leaning back on his hands. “Sounds not like you. Give me _some_ credit.”

 

“…You’re gonna do one of those weird fainty things if I tell you. And then scream at me, and threaten to call the police.”

 

Keito considers for a moment, then suggests, “Don’t use names, then. Just tell me all the nasty details you’re trying so badly to repress.”

 

“You’re gonna figure it out, though,” Eichi bemoans, stuffing his face into the steam from his tea, then taking a long, slow sip. At least Keito makes tea the exact way he likes it. “I didn’t even initiate this. I want you to know that.”

 

“It’s Itsuki, right?” Keito really hopes he’s right, or he’ll forfeit all of his cool guess credit. “I mean, he’s the only one that was missing from class, and Morisawa said you left together.”

 

“…Yeah.” Eichi grimaces. “I’m only telling you because I’m sure he’s told his little sycophantic pet. I really didn’t want you to get involved because…well. You know that you could get in trouble, too.”

 

“I always assume I’m in trouble with your family. And I usually am. For things that are your fault.”

 

“Right, right, but this is a big one. And now you know that we’re having lots of sex—lots of _good_ sex—hold on, I have pics.” Eichi opens up the album in question, thrusting his phone over. “So you know I’m not talking out of my ass.”

 

“Of all the things I’m afraid you’re doing with asses, talking is not exactly the one that makes—“

 

The second Keito stabs Eichi’s password in and starts flipping through the camera roll, he falls silent, eyes blinking behind his spectacles. “Wow,” he says finally, shifting in his seat. “Itsuki’s a whore.”

 

“Mmhm.” Eichi props his chin in one hand, slowly drinking his tea. “He had a vibrator up his ass, and gave me the remote. That’s why we left class. He dragged me into a broom closet. Ahh, it’s so cathartic to _tell you_ , this was driving me crazy.”

 

“How long have you been hooking up with the guy who hates you more than anything?” Keito asks, flipping off the phone before he can get too aroused. Some of those images are probably going to pop up later when he’s alone, unfortunately. “I guess it’s not as crazy as I’d think, hatesex sounds kind of…well. Kind of hot, I guess.”

 

“Just a few days? But holy shit. He’s going to kill me. Keito, we were just arguing with one another and he dropped to his knees and started sucking my dick out of nowhere.”

 

“Well, that’s just not fair,” Keito mutters, folding his arms over his chest. “Hey, I’ve argued with him lots of times, you think he’s ever been close to doing that for me?”

 

“…No, he _really_ hates you.”

 

“What, he doesn’t hate _you_? You broke his brain, he just doesn’t like my scripts!”

 

“Apparently, I’m still hot.” Eichi shrugs, a smile still on his lips. “We’ve known each other for awhile. I guess we’re both trying to think about that instead of…everything else.”

 

“Not that I _want_ to have sex with Itsuki,” Keito assures him, “but I want you to know this is really unfair. I’m perfectly attractive, aren’t I? I mean, if he’s going to go around slutting it up with guys he hates…”

 

“I think you’re very handsome. But, um, I don’t think he likes you…mentally? Or like, in an intellectual sense, or something? At all? Whatever, something like that. Apparently, I’m pretty enough that it doesn’t matter, and also, he likes that my dick is big.”

 

Keito scowls at him. “He’s as big of a size queen as you, you mean. You’re both awful.” He pauses, then asks, “So, he already had all this stuff? The vibrators and everything? What a slut.”

 

“He had some of it,” Eichi hedges, fanning the lingering steam of his tea slowly into his face. “And the rest…well, ah. I might have cut him a check.”

 

“You’re _both_ sluts. And he’s a whore.”

 

“Slut implies I sleep around with many people indiscriminately. And you’d be right. But he was a virgin, so he’s not a slut, he’s just a whore.” Eichi smirks, taking another sip of tea. “ _My_ whore. I bought him.”

 

Keito opens his mouth, then closes it again, drumming his fingers on one upper arm. “Listen. You’re going to have to stop telling me things that are sort of really attractive. I don’t want to go back to class with a hard-on.”

 

“Then don’t. Stay here and keep me company while I recover from him dragging me into a broom closet and insisting I fuck him right then and there. He’s _bossy_.”

 

“And that…works on you? Like, if I did that, would that work on you?”

 

Eichi contemplates that for a moment, draining his mug. “Maybe. I like pushy guys.”

 

“You had to think about that way too much, Eichi. Whatever. Tell me about his weird kinks.”'

 

“I don’t know that many yet, actually. I just know he likes the idea of being paid for, makes and wears lingerie sometimes, and likes it when I shove him around. I’m hoping and praying that he’ll tie me up and kill me some day.”

 

“You’re a sick motherfucker,” Keito says tiredly, and shifts again, because dammit, that’s all kind of…nice. “If you need kinbaku tips, we can always practice again.”

 

“Hmm. It might be distracting over whatever lingerie he has…I wonder if he’d appreciate it on me, or just roll his eyes. It’s hard to tell. He really liked it when I had to look like a businessman for work. I had him meet me at the hotel, heh.”

 

“You,” Keito informs him, pointing a finger at Eichi’s chest, “are going to get caught by your family, and you are _not_ going to blame me for this. Do you understand?”

 

“Why would I blame you? I just didn’t want to tell you because now you _know_ , so they’ll blame you anyway,” Eichi huffs. “If I get caught, whatever. Then I just have to deal with his stupid family; mine will…well, I don’t know. Yell at me? Because that’s never happened.”

 

“Just…promise me you won’t eat his ass before you’re better.”

 

Eichi pauses, and raises a peace sign up guiltily. “Whoops.”

 

“You’ve only been doing it for a couple of days! Is that seriously what you go directly for?”

 

“I mean—if a guy lets me? Absolutely. He has a great ass and if anyone is spotlessly clean, it’s _Itsuki Shu._ He shows up sparkling and pre-lubed, come on.”

 

“Sounds like fucking a woman. Hey, if he’s so clean, does that mean that every time, he stuffs a hose up his—“

 

“Visiting us again, Tenshouin-kun?”

 

Keito scrambles up to his feet, bowing when Sagami Jin enters, beer in hand.

 

Eichi immediately summons a cough, sounding effectively, pathetically ill. “Unfortunately, Sagami-sensei,” he says with a wan smile. “Keito was just taking care of me. Keitoo, maybe I should go home for the day, if even tea isn’t helping…”

 

“You got that special tea of yours and everything, huh?” Sagami takes a swig of his beer, then flops down into his chair, pulling out a clipboard. “You want me to call your folks or something? I guess you can just push that button you’ve got, right?”

 

“I’ll handle it, Sagami-sensei,” Keito assures him, getting an arm around Eichi’s shoulders to help him off the bed. “Thanks for the quiet place to rest, I’ll come back and clean up the kettle in a moment.”

 

Sagami waves a hand. “Don’t worry about it. Just get him out of my infirmary before I get blamed for him dying.”

 

“Don’t worry, Sagami-sensei, I won’t let you get—“Another coughing fit, more or less summoned, but a little too real to be comfortable. Eichi clings to Keito’s shoulders more realistically this time around, and finds himself decidedly grumpy about it. “I wanna go home,” he grumbles underneath his breath. “Keito, take care of me.” Briefly, selfishly, Eichi wonders if he could get away with summoning Shu to his house.

 

Once they’re out of the infirmary, Keito whispers, “Driver, taxi, or walk? How sick are you right now? You shouldn’t trifle with things like this, your lungs are going to rot if you keep pushing yourself.”

 

“Ehh…maybe I’m just a little touchy because I let Sh—er, Itsuki-kun strangle me with my tie before,” Eichi dismisses with a flutter of a hand. “And I didn’t sleep that much last night. You don’t really have to take me home or anything; maybe you can just drop me off in the student council room and I can sleep it off before practice or something…don’t give me that look, me dying is nothing new!”

 

“If you’re staying in the student council room, I’ll stay with you,” Keito warns. “In fact, that’s a great idea. We can catch up on a lot of that paperwork that’s been put off for _far_ too long.”

 

Eichi stumbles, clinging too-tightly to Keito as he deliberately sounds like he’s hacking up a lung. “S-sorry, maybe not that, maybe home instead—no, don’t call the car, I can just take a taxi, I know my limits…”

 

“Nonsense.” Keito’s eyes glint behind his glasses. “If your parents heard I’d done that, they’d have me strung up. I’ll call your driver, and while I’m at it, your family doctor.”

 

“Nooo, stooop, I don’t wanna get in trouble. Keito, where’s your sense of loyalty?” Eichi begs, batting his eyelashes up to him. “I’m dying, let me have this much.”

 

“Why are you always so much trouble?” Keito demands crossly. “There’s no reason for this. There’s no reason for you to be so bad. And you may not like my loyalty, but this is what it looks like. If you call a cab, I’m going with you to make sure you’re resting properly, even though I have a _lot_ of _your_ work to do.”

 

“You can come with me and make sure I’m resting properly. I just don’t wanna be nagged, not right now. Also, I’m not bad, I’m adorable, you think so, I can tell.” Eichi traces a finger up Keito’s arm. “So be nice to me and take me home and don’t make me do anything all afternoon and night.” He might sext Shu in lieu of actually playing with him in a garden shed, but maybe if he shares a bit of that with Keito, Keito will be less grouchy.

 

Keito sighs, then nods, keeping his arm around Eichi’s shoulders and steering him towards the road. “Fine, fine. But you don’t get to question my loyalty again, that makes me crazy mad.”

 

“I was joking. Have you forgotten how to take a joke in your old age?” Eichi grumpily says, stifling another cough that creeps up for real as they walk. “I love your sense of humor the most, don’t deny me.”

 

Keito feels his heart thud, and he presses his lips together, trying not to be a fucking idiot. “Don’t pretend you don’t play off the straight man act. If I weren’t like this, you wouldn’t be able to flutter around like an idiot.”

 

“Uh huh. But that’s why you’re my favorite. Ah, are you blushing? That’s cute, you’re cute. Keitooo, you’re not allowed to blush and be mad at me, that’s the law.”

 

“Stop making up laws!” Keito spots a taxi, and throws up an arm, bundling Eichi into the backseat and giving his address. “Yes, I know it’s close, he’s pathetic.”

 

“But I’m the president, I can make all the laws,” Eichi laughs, grabbing Keito’s arm again. “You’re pathetic, too. You like me.”

 

Keito scowls, but doesn’t yank his arm away, despite the cab driver’s look back at them in the rearview mirror. “You’re being ridiculous, I’m just here to make sure you get home safe. If you really _listened_ to me, you wouldn’t be going home right now, president or no president, you’d be feeling good.”

 

“Ehh…questionable. I’m always dying, your advice doesn’t change that,” Eichi idly points out, snuggling up to Keito’s side. “And maybe this was all part of my master plan. Going home with you makes it look like I’m being obedient, my family thinks you’re suuuuch a good influence.”

 

Keito snorts. “Sure. Maybe that’ll make them stop blaming me for dragging you off to idol school and making you stress yourself ill all the time. Last time I brought you home, your father told me off for not doing all of your homework, and offered me a stipend for my family’s temple.” His face darkens. “That makes it sound so cheap, instead of helping out my best friend.”

 

“That’s the way they show they care,” Eichi says with a roll of his eyes. “You should’ve taken it and pocketed it and used it on art supplies. Believe it or not, they _like_ you. Or at least, they dislike you the least out of all the people I associate with, outside of the Himemiya family.”

 

“Then how come I wind up in dogeza every time they see me?” Keito demands. “And your new butler is _weird_ , I miss the old one.”

 

“That’s because you thought he was hot. The new one is old on purpose, but I guess he’s hot in a sort of much-older-George-Clooney kind of way.” Eichi shrugs, leaning his head against Keito’s shoulder. “You wind up in dogeza because you’re not an idiot. It makes them like you more.”

 

“Ah, sirs, we’re here.”

 

Keito hands over his cash, then tugs Eichi out of the cab, then up to the long walk towards the gate. “You owe me eight hundred yen. I’m sure that breaks the bank, after what you’ve been signing over for Valkyrie.”

 

Eichi rolls his eyes, smoothing his hair down and making sure his clothes are straight all the same. If he shows up looking like a mess, then he’ll get an earful, too, no matter how ill he feels at any given time. “I barely gave him half my weekly allowance. It was a sex thing, anyway, don’t think too far into it.”

 

Keito fusses with his own cuffs, tugging them down and clearing his throat. “I should really just start wearing kneepads whenever I come over. It would save me some bruises.”

 

“Oh, stop. Just come up to my room with me. It’s late enough that it looks like I just skipped rehearsal, not most of the day.” Eichi latches onto Keito’s arm for maximum pathetic effect. “And if I’m clingy enough, they’ll just let us go.”

 

“You’re always clingy, though?” Nevertheless, Keito supports Eichi, though his knees wobble a bit. Somehow, despite his fears, they manage to get to Eichi’s room with a minimum of chiding. “Your parents must not be home,” Keito says under his breath, dumping Eichi onto his bed. “Just let me know if you’re going to call Itsuki over so I can run away and buy earplugs.”

 

Eichi flops down, sprawling down into bed with a sigh. “You really don’t want to stay and watch?” he mildly asks, wriggling his toes before he pulls his phone out of his pocket. “I’m tempted. But apparently his family would outright disown him, and I don’t know if I’m ready for that responsibility.”

 

“You’ve been fucking him for three days, Eichi. Maybe give it one week before taking his family away?”

 

“It’s the best sex I’ve ever had! I’m allowed to be a little obsessive, I think.”

 

“But…Eichi, he’s…” Keito searches for words, then throws up his hands into the air. “He’s _mean_.”

 

“Heh, yeah. I want him to spit in my face.”

 

“I’m being serious, idiot. Have you forgotten why you wanted to crush him in the first place?”

 

Eichi exhales a grumpy little noise, and rolls to the side, presenting Keito with his back. “Maybe. Maybe I am on purpose.”

 

“He’s not just—honestly, pay attention to me.” Keito pokes Eichi’s shoulder. “You sound like you’re in love with him.”

 

Eichi growls, turning his head to glower back at Keito. “Don’t say gross things.”

 

Suspicion flares, and Keito folds his arms over his chest, glaring at Eichi. “It makes sense. If you were just fucking him, you’d have told me right away, right? Ugh, you’re talking about telling _families_ , what’s wrong with you?”

 

“I didn’t tell you right away because he made me promise! He hates you, and I think he’s kind of scared of you, in his own way, and he _knew_ I’d tell you, so I…” Eichi snaps his mouth shut. Standing up for Shu is _awkward_ , especially when it’s against Keito, and he’s not unaware of that. He groans, burying his face down into a pillow. “This is your fault, I could’ve gotten this out of my system _years_ ago, but noooo, you ruined it!”

 

“ _I_ ruined it? What? You can’t blame me for things just by making things up!”

 

“Remember, when we were in middle school, and there was a party, and I told you to tell him to meet me in the rose garden? And you _didn’t?_ Your fault.”

 

Keito casts his mind back, frowning. “Oh. I did.” He reaches up, rubbing at the back of his neck. “I thought you were going to play a nasty prank on him and make a big scene, so I warned him.”

 

“You jerk. I wanted to make out with him. Now I’m deprived and have to make up for it now.”

 

Keito shrugs. “I just had to clean up your mess from when you decided your math tutor was ‘getting in the way’ of you having fun, remember? I was mad at you.”

 

“Doesn’t change the fact I was mad at you after that. And now I’m fucking him, so it didn’t even change anything, now did it?” Eichi huffs, throwing himself forward again into a pillow. “So now you can’t yell at me for wanting to have a good time.”

 

“Yes, I can.” Keito rolls his eyes. “I’m not yelling at you for having a good time, moron. I’m yelling at you for making dumb decisions about a guy that honestly wants to murder you half the time, and me all the time.”

 

“He doesn’t want to kill me when my dick is in him,” Eichi mumbles, hugging his pillow harder. It _does_ beg the question if this is all an elaborate trap to taunt and torment him later, but even for Shu, that seems a little extreme. Or maybe he’s an idiot. “You’re ruining my fun entirely.”

 

“Isn’t that what you always accuse me of?” Keito sighs, then pokes Eichi’s cheek. “Stop looking so sad and tell me about his lingerie.”

 

“This is a different kind of fun-ruining,” Eichi grouses, and directs a snap of his teeth at Keito’s finger. “Red lace. He makes it all himself.”

 

Keito pokes Eichi’s nose this time, then his forehead. “Okay, but what shape? If I’m going to draw it, and I _know_ you’re going to make me draw it, I need to know.”

 

“…You have to draw him as a girl. With boobs. They’d be huge.” Eichi hesitates, then pulls up a different folder on his phone. “Here. You can see his face in these, and, mm, a lot more of everything. I didn’t get any shots of what he was wearing today, but it was strappy. I can’t decide what I like more.”

 

Keito takes a nice long look, then turns his head to the side, flipping through a few photos with laser focus. “Don’t make fun of me if I get hard,” he warns. “These are really hot and you know it.”

 

“I can’t even look at them without getting hard, don’t worry about it,” Eichi sighs, burying his face back down again. “I wish he’d kill me. He doesn’t even yell at me for not wearing a condom. I can’t believe it. Will you draw him in heels?”

 

“If he made these himself, they must have been around before you two were doing it,” Keito muses, pulling out his sketchbook. “Who do you think he made it for? It’d be hot if he made it thinking about something like this. How high the heels?”

 

“Stilettos that he could murder me with. I _hope_ he made it for something like this…he literally went home to change into it after I invited him to my hotel.” Eichi slowly rolls onto his back, pillow still pressed down onto his face. “Apparently he wanted to blow me for years. Then we did it on the floor of the practice room. I had no idea he was a virgin, that’s how good he was.”

 

“Says he was a virgin,” Keito mutters under his breath, starting to sketch. “Sounds fake. Big nipples, or little?”

 

“Little. Cute. They get hard really easy. No, he definitely was a virgin, he told me later. He also sucks dick like a virgin.”

 

Keito starts the curve of the breasts, punctuated by cute little nipples. “Nice,” he says to himself, nodding a little. “What kind of ass would he have? Also, try to get a picture of him standing from behind next time.”

 

“Like a ripe peach. Not as squishy or round as Sena-kun’s, but just as toned. I’m not sure if you could bounce anything off of it like you can Wataru’s, but I’m tempted to try.” Eichi’s eyes glaze. “If he was really a girl, that would make this so much easier. Then I’d just marry him—her.”

 

“Right, good to know you’re not rushing into anything,” Keito says with a sigh, but it’s not like he honestly cares who Eichi marries. “Just tell me that you want to run away with him, that’s at least really cute.”

 

“I told him I’d buy him a theater,” Eichi admits with a sigh. “And keep him like a pet. Listen, _no one_ takes dick like he does.”

 

Keito shifts, and grabs a pillow from the bed, stuffing it into his lap. “You suck, this is too much. Hmm, this size for the chest?”

 

Eichi twists to lean over and look, then nods firmly. “Definitely. I could fuck those tits. That’s ideal. I hope next time he’s wearing a corset that I can yank on when I’m in him.”

 

Keito swallows hard. “You get like, three more arousing statements before I have to go jerk off in your bathroom,” he warns flatly.

 

“Rude. At least let me watch, I’m horny, too.” Eichi sighs, a long-suffering sound. “His stupid lotion rubbed off on me and every time I smell lilacs now, I get hard. I hate this.”

 

Keito pauses, then twitches the pillow. “You wanna…together?” he asks, trying to sound casual. They’ve done it before, a couple of times, but usually when Eichi isn’t involved with someone.

 

 _Yes_ is on the tip of Eichi’s tongue, and why he’s having second thoughts is beyond him. Damn it, what the hell. Why is he even questioning this? “Tentatively yes, but let me check something,” he murmurs, snatching up his phone.

 

**To: Itsuki-kun**

**Subject: question**

**are we exclusive for real or. i’m still horny and got dragged home and you aren’t here sooo**

 

“I can’t believe you’re asking Itsuki Shu’s permission to get off,” Keito mutters.

 

**To: Tenshouin**

**Subject: …**

**I don’t know. Do you want to be?**

 

“Shit, why couldn’t he just say ‘no, idiot, I’m using you for your money’ or something?” Eichi groans, glowering at his phone. It promptly slips out of his fingers and lands on his face. “Ow.”

 

**To: Itsuki-kun**

**Subject: uuuummmm**

**this is a deep dark pit of a question and i’m horny because of you right now, can i jerk off with keito this once and then we discuss this at length later**

 

**To: Tenshouin**

**Subject: …**

**I should just say ‘no’ because it’s funny.**

 

**To: Tenshouin**

**Subject: fine**

**You couldn’t have better taste? You had ME and now you want Hasumi? I’m going to step on your dick later.**

 

**To: Tenshouin:**

**Subject: wearing these**

**heels.jpg**

 

“Holy shit,” Eichi mutters, shutting his eyes as blood rushes _abruptly_ south.

 

**To: Itsuki-kun**

**Subject: LISTEN**

**ITS NOT THAT I DONT WANT YOU ITS THAT I CANT INVITE YOU TO MY HOUSE fcuk now im even harder this is entirely your fault please step on me**

 

“Did you want a heel reference? I’ve got a heel reference now.”

 

“Ooh, nice. Does he have those, or is he just finding shopping links?”

 

**To: Tenshouin**

**Subject: Hey!**

**You make fun of ME for wanting to go several times in one day? I just let you do it and now you need Hasumi I**

 

**To: Tenshouin**

**Subject: Fine**

**It doesn’t matter I don’t care.**

 

“No, he has them, I think. Fuck, he’s being…that way he is. I’m terrible with tsunderes, do you think he’s actually pissed with me and will be mad if we do anything?” Eichi sighs, passing the phone over.

 

Keito scans the messages, then looks deadpan up at Eichi. “You’re an idiot. He wants to _date_ you, not be a hatesex hookup. It’s literally obvious.”

 

“Eh? What, really?” Eichi flips the phone back around, frowning down at it as if it will translate itself. “But you said it yourself—he hates me and wants me dead. I ruined his life, notably.”

 

“Well, you ruin my life daily, and I still like you,” Keito points out. “Maybe he thinks that’s part of your charm.”

 

“I mean, _I_ think I’m charming…” Eichi mutters, sighing at the phone for a moment longer.

 

**To: Itsuki-kun**

**Subject: fiiiine**

**i’m not going to do anything, happy? but you better step on me for real later**

 

**To: Tenshouin**

**Subject:**

**So does that mean you want to, you know**

 

**To: Tenshouin**

**Subject: whatever**

**I mean it doesn’t matter! I don’t care do whatever you want.**

 

**To: Tenshouin**

**Subject: but**

**Are you free tonight?**

 

**To: Itsuki-kun**

**Subject: i wish**

**i think i played up the sick act too much to escape. i mean, if you want to climb up to my window, by all means, but…**

 

“I’m trying to convince him to sneak in and step on me,” Eichi offers up. “Let’s see what happens. It’s the least he should do, I think, if I’m not allowed to jerk off with you.”

 

Keito plants the pillow firmly back into his lap. “If I were a worse person, I could be getting a handjob right now,” he says with a sigh.

 

“Do you think talking you off counts?” Eichi asks, intrigued. “Because I’m good at that. And you’re easy, all I have to do is remind you that I’m good at blowjobs and that I always swallow. ‘Thanks for the meal, Hasumi-sama~’—that sort of thing.”

 

“ _Eichi_ ,” Keito hisses, drawing his knees up to his chest, slipping his hand under the pillow. “That’s really mean, you know how that affects me.”

 

**To: Tenshouin**

**Subject: of course…**

**You can do whatever you want…but if you sleep with someone else I assume it’s fine for me to do the same.**

 

“That’s why I said you’re easy, duh. Are you seriously jerking off _right now?_ I mean, go ahead, but you’re stripping the bed if you make a mess.” Eichi stares at the new text message with a frown, annoyed that it _does_ annoy him.

 

**To: Itsuki-kun**

**Subject:**

**but i paid for you**

 

It’s the only thing he can settle upon to save any kind of face. Admitting jealousy, posessiveness, anything like that—that’s a bit much.

 

With a groan, Keito removes his hand, flopping over to lie facedown on the bed. “Being your friend is a lot of work, you know.”

 

**To: Tenshouin**

**Subject: you’re an ass**

**And a bastard.**

 

**To: Tenshouin**

**Subject: However**

**I suppose you did pay for me. So, do you really want me to sneak in the window or will I be shot?**

 

“But I’m a _lot_ of fun,” Eichi says, his eyes flicking up from his phone. “Hey. Do you think he’ll get shot if he tries to climb in through my window? Alternatively, I was thinking of trying to smuggle him in through the servant’s entrance in the back.”

 

**To: Itsuki-kun**

**Subject: debating**

**i want this, but i don’t want you dead. keito Is here, though. thoughts on him watching?**

 

**To: Tenshouin**

**Subject: Hmm.**

**I can pretend to be a tutor or something, I’ll wear a wig and a mask?**

 

**To: Tenshouin**

**Subject: Also**

**I missed the second part. Are you asking because you want him or you think it would be hot?**

 

“Are you seriously inviting him over while I’m still here? Oi, I just carried your ass home, you still owe me for the cab.”

 

**To: Itsuki-kun**

**Subject: wwwwwww**

**i don’t want him oh my god. but it would be hot to have someone watch. also i owe him like 800 yen thats probably a decent payback**

 

**To: Itsuki-kun**

**Subject: also**

**tutors don’t climb windows. but theres a servants entrance you can sneak in through…**

 

“Stop complaining, I’m inviting him over so I can fuck him in front of you. Do you want that or do you want 800 yen?”

 

Keito shuts his mouth with an audible snap. Then he breathes in, and says very politely, sitting up with hands in his lap, “I think 800 yen is actually not very important in the grand scheme of things, now that you mention it.”

 

**To: Tenshouin**

**Subject: Where?**

**I’m still at school, your house is fairly close. Come out and meet me.**

 

“That’s what I thought,” Eichi smugly says, hopping out of bed. “I have to go out and meet him, though. Just stay put, and try not to jerk off while I’m gone.”

 

**To: Itsuki-kun**

**Subject: around back**

**if you go to the front gate you’ll probably get shot. you know how the gardens circle around? that side. i’ll meet you back there and let you in.**

 

“This is going to get me shot somehow,” Keito mutters, and shamelessly unfastens his pants, then starts sketching again.

 

**To: Tenshouin**

**Subject: Five minutes**

**Have to stop for my disguise actually, make it 10.**

 

“How? You’re just watching, you don’t get to even touch,” Eichi teases, knowing for a _fact_ that just makes Keito harder, for whatever reason. “I’ll be back in a few minutes.”

 

Sneaking around his own house is easier said than done, but with his parents not home, that makes it _infinitely_ easier. Eichi slips out to the gardens with barely a nod from the staff, and settles down near the back gate, keeping an eye on it for Shu’s impending arrival. _This is definitely one of the stupider things you’ve done_ , he reminds himself. Risks taken to go against his family aside, they usually aren’t risks that will ultimately damage his relationship with them beyond a bit of eyerolling. This…no, this is different, and definitely stupid.

 

Eichi’s nerves are nothing compared to the terror that makes Shu’s knees tremble. He sticks to the trees and shadows, wearing large dark sunglasses, a dark brown wig, and a mask over his face, even zipping a nondescript jacket up over any incriminating ruffles. He hangs around the edge of the estates, periodically pulling out his phone and checking it, hoping that if anyone sees him, he’ll look like he’s checking a map or something.

 

The movement catches Eichi’s eye, and he slinks over, offering up a disarming, and hopefully, not _too_ familiar smile. “Sensei?” he cheerfully offers, extending his hand. “Come along, it’s time for our lesson, right?” There. If someone overhears, then maybe they’ll just think he’s fucking a teacher. That’s _much_ easier to shrug off.

 

Shu looks up sharply, catches the idea immediately, and nods in response, extending his hand in a Western handshake. “Tenshouin-kun. Prompt as usual, I’m pleased. You have your homework ready to go over, I assume?” He lowers his voice slightly, but fortunately, puberty has been kind to him in that regard.

 

Ooh. Shu with an even deeper voice is distracting, and Eichi swallows hard, holding perhaps too-tightly to Shu’s hand. “Of course, Sensei. Um, I had a lot of questions this time, though—so let’s go ahead up to my room, follow me.”

 

The terrifying little thrill of pulling Shu into his house won’t quite disappear, even whenthere’s literally no one about to scold him, and Eichi hears his heart thud in his ears. “Right this way—I know we usually just stick to the library, but I’m feeling a little under the weather today, so…”

 

“Bocchama, is this a new guest?”

 

The maid that appears is one of the older ones, who has been around since Eichi’s brattiest days, though she still bobs a Western-style curtsy when she shows up. “Is he recorded in Maria-sama’s guest book? Forgive the intrusion, I can make the addition now, if your guest has his identification.”

 

Squashing down panic, Eichi settles for a dark, annoyed stare. It’s much more effective on staff that dislikes him from childhood, though he _does_ try to keep it to a minimum these days. This is an exception. “You don’t remember my music tutor? Use your eyes, Akiko-san,” he snorts, stepping aside to let Shu step up onto the stairs first. “I’ve been ill enough that I have to catch up at home now. Could you do me a favor and not draw attention to that again? It’s embarrassing.”

 

“Apologies, Bocchama,” Akiko says, and bows to both of them, withdrawing into the back of the house’s tunnels like a proper servant.

 

Shu doesn’t relax in the slightest, holding onto the stiffness of his posture until they ascend the stairs. “I do hope you’ve been practicing your chromatic intervals,” he says, retaining that slightly affected, resonant tone. “That tendency to cry into your notes is one of your weaknesses, as we’ve discussed.”

 

“Ehh, Sensei, you’re so hard on me. I’ve been trying hard, you know, so you should criticize me less!”

 

The second he opens the door to his bedroom, Eichi shoves Shu inside and flips three locks behind them, breathing out heavily. “Holy shit,” he groans, raking a hand back through his hair. “This better be worth it.”

 

“What happened?” Keito demands.

 

Shu’s knees buckle, and he sinks to the floor, hands trembling. “Throw a blanket over me for a minute, I’ll be fine soon,” he says, face pale.

 

Eichi yanks a blanket off of the end of his bed, tossing it over Shu’s head with a sigh. “Accosted by a nosy servant—I had to pull out the brat card, but whatever,” he huffs, folding his arms. “I doubt she’ll bother us again. Damn it, I just want to get laid without them interfering.”

 

Keito’s head tilts, staring at the blanket mound. “ _This_ is the sex fiend you’ve been bragging about bagging,” he says flatly. “Somehow, I feel like you were lying.”

 

“Oh, stop it, you know he’s just like this sometimes,” Eichi exasperatedly says, dropping down onto the end of the bed. “Give him a second or whatever. And _me_ a second, my heart is _going_ , here, feel it.”

 

“Which servant?” Keito asks, though he does take the proffered chance to touch Eichi’s chest. “Your heart is fluttering like a dying baby bird, I’m going to call your doctor if you try to have sex today.”

 

“Akiko—and don’t you dare! If I’m gonna die, I want it to be during sex at least!” Huffily, Eichi bats Keito’s hand away, striding back over to Shu and crouching down next to him. “Itsuki-kuuun. I’ve been bragging about you, don’t make me look like an idiot, okay? At least make out with me.”

 

Shu breathes, fumbling for his bearings when everything is so insane and divorced from the comfort of his usual stress, and lifts his chin. “Shouldn’t you be calling me Sensei?” he asks archly, and snaps his fingers. “I want to hear some chromatic intervals first.”

 

“I’ll call you Sensei in bed all you want, but emphasis _bed_ , not practice,” Eichi sniffs as he dives underneath Shu’s blanket, pouncing upon him to pin him to the floor. “Play with me.”

 

The sudden physical contact is more than Shu is expecting, and he squeaks, though he doesn’t struggle much. “I—ah, what a brat you are,” he grunts, even as his body slowly starts to respond, sluggish though it is after the unexpected terror. “In front of Hasumi—I knew your taste was low, but I didn’t know it was _that_ rock bottom.”

 

“Oi,” Keito grumbles. “Eichi, teach him a lesson for me, huh?”

 

Even just that much casual dismissal makes Shu gasp, and his hands suddenly rise up, tangling in Eichi’s hair. “You going to teach me a lesson, Tenshouin?”

 

“That’s more like it,” Eichi murmurs, easily shoving Shu’s thighs apart to crawl between them. He tugs off the wig, tossing it aside, and plucks off Shu’s mask before catching his mouth with his own, his teeth catching against that soft lower lip. “He likes watching,” he lowly says for Shu’s ears only. “And not being allowed to touch. Fucking weirdo, but whatever, it’s hot.”

 

Shu breathes out a snort, rubbing a hand up through his hair, tousling it now that it’s free from the wig. His eyes flash, and he starts tugging at Eichi’s shirt, deftly unbuttoning each button. “Then let’s give him something to be jealous of, hmm? I assume he’d rather walk through coals than betray your confidence, of course…”

 

“That’s the one.” Eichi catches Shu’s mouth again, silencing him for a moment with a shove of his tongue into his mouth, shivering at the taste that’s quickly becoming _familiar_. “Up,” he murmurs, grabbing the front of Shu’s shirt to pull him off the floor. “My bed’s too nice to waste. Off, Keito, sit on a chair if you’re going to watch.”

 

“I don’t even get to sit on the bed?” Keito complains, but he moves, plopping down on a high-backed armchair, grabbing a pillow and keeping it on his lap. “This better be a good show, for all you’ve been bragging.”

 

Shu hits the bed, and cocks an eyebrow up at Eichi, letting his legs slowly spread. “You’ve been bragging, eh? What have you been saying about me?”

 

“That you’ve already got a collection of lingerie and toys started.” Eichi follows as if he’s being drawn along on a string, crawling between those spread legs and letting his hands drag up Shu’s thighs. “And that no one takes cock like you do.” He smiles, tugging down the zipper of Shu’s jacket. “That I couldn’t believe you were a virgin because you were so good at it. See? Only compliments.”

 

Something dark dances in Shu’s eyes. “You should carefully think,” he warns, resting a hand over Eichi’s, “whether you want him to see what’s under my shirt, Tenshouin. You know I had time to change.”

 

“Stop whispering,” Keito says, annoyed. “If this is supposed to be sexy, take some clothes off.”

 

“Shut uuup, you don’t get to call the shots here,” Eichi snaps, his hand stilling. Some annoying, possessive part of him _doesn’t_ want Keito to see, but that’s just silly. He’s already shown him pictures, right? And it’s not like he gets to _touch_. “ _I_ want to see,” he mutters. “Take it off.”

 

Shu hesitates for a moment, then capitulates, bowing his head slightly. “As you wish, honored customer,” he says with a twitch of his lips, eyes lidded.

 

Then he pulls back, kneeling on the bed as he strips off first jacket, then blazer, then finally shirt, revealing strappy black and gold, accented with lace but focused on a braided texture more like ropes, criss-crossing pale flesh in a pattern that links corset and garter belt, dipping tantalizingly down into his trousers. “Care to see the rest?” he breathes, eyes burning only for Eichi.

 

“Holy shit,” Keito mutters, and one hand disappears under the pillow.

 

Eichi stops breathing for a moment, and that’s fine. If he dies, now is the time. He reaches out, thumb plucking at one of the skin-tight straps, watching it snap back against soft, pale skin in a way that makes him swallow audibly. “Yes,” he somehow manages to rasp when he’s certain all of the blood in his body is now in his cock. “Show me.”

 

Shu holds up a finger, suddenly serious, even though Eichi’s reaction makes him salivate. “You are not allowed to ruin this one,” he warns. “You will take care or you are allowed to touch as much as Hasumi over there. Am I understood? I worked hard on this.”

 

Eichi strangles down a whine, his fingers twitching with the urge to simply rip Shu’s trousers off, flip him over, and fuck him senseless—which probably counts as ruining it, but _whatever_. “Yes, yes, I understand.” He licks at his lips, sitting back enough to _politely_ restrain himself. “Show me, _show me._ ”

 

Now that he has Eichi’s _full_ attention, Shu slowly unfastens his trousers, kicking them off to reveal stockings held up by straps, attached to the bottom of the garter belt portion of the corset, carefully crossing over the sleek black silk panties hiding what’s now a rather noticeable bulge. “It would be better with the heels,” he says with a sigh, “but needs must.”

 

And then he stands on the bed, somehow managing not to wobble, and sets his stockinged foot firmly down against the bulge in Eichi’s pants, stepping with some amount of force. “This is what you wanted, wasn’t it?”

 

Keito lets out a strangled gasp, then a choked groan.

 

Underneath the press of Shu’s foot, his heel digging down into his now painfully hard cock, it’s hard not to just go ahead and come. Eichi nearly does, his breath stuttering, face flushed hot as he struggles not to grab Shu down again and fuck him senseless. No, that’s part of the _fun_ , not being able to eat him alive. “Uh huh,” he pants out, his thighs spreading further apart, his cock twitching underneath Shu’s foot. “Fuck, I’m keeping heels here for you next time if this is what ‘please’ gets me. Tell me…w-what constitutes as ruining, and how much I’m allowed to…” _Grab and pull and rip that off of you, or not, fuck._

 

Shu considers, and curls his toes, shifting more of his weight onto Eichi when he’s not meeting with any protests. “You can touch anywhere, as long as your fingers are gentle. And you can fuck me,” he decides, letting the filthy words fall off his tongue, “if you take the panties off. Last time you just pulled them to the side, and they got all…” _Crusty_ is the best word, and Shu had thrown them away, despairing of ever getting them properly clean again.

 

“Shit,” Eichi mutters, reaching out to grab hastily at Shu’s ankle, his fingers trembling faintly. “If…you keep grinding your foot down like that, I’m gonna come,” he warns, casting his gaze upward. “And you look like you’re not in the mood to wait—so—“

 

“You’re so easy,” Shu taunts, but removes his foot, then makes a show of sliding the panties down his ass, unhooking the straps from the tops of his stockings to kick them off completely. “It ruins the effect,” he admits, kneeling astride Eichi’s hips, “but maybe I can, ah, make up for that…somehow?”

 

“I see nothing ruined,” Eichi breathes, his hands immediately going to the curve of Shu’s ass, squeezing, kneading, pulling him forward to sit more directly atop his cock, still straining against his trousers. It takes effort not to pluck and pull at the lingerie directly, but dragging his fingers up Shu’s back to feel the texture of it against his skin is a decent enough compromise. “But if you want to make up for something…you should tie me to the headboard and ride me until I’m begging you for mercy.”

 

“Ah, should I?”

 

“Eichi, let me,” Keito says suddenly, pulling at his tie. “I’m good at it, you know I am.”

 

Shu smirks. “Is the peanut gallery allowed to touch that much?” he asks archly. “I’m perfectly skilled at handiwork like that, there’s a brat I know who’s obsessed with cat’s cradle.”

 

Letting Keito do _one_ thing has the possibility of leading to a million others, but…well, for this instance, Eichi has to admit—“He _is_ good at it,” he says, batting his eyelashes up at Shu. “I won’t be able to get away. _And_ it’ll probably be pretty.” Also, his dick is hard enough that anything sounds nice right now. Shu’s right—he’s very easy.

 

Keito doesn’t wait for permission, whipping the tie off of his neck and around Eichi’s wrists, lashing them securely to the bedpost in a precise, careful criss-cross pattern. “It’ll tighten the more you pull, so be careful,” he warns, cock obviously tenting his pants, cheeks flushed.

 

Shu does not find Hasumi Keito attractive. But like this, binding Eichi’s wrists so securely, fingers brisk and competent, allowed to look but _not_ to touch…perhaps it’s just the act of showing off that he likes, but he feels his own breath quicken, and he reaches down, cupping the bulge in Keito’s trousers for just a moment before releasing it, looking into Eichi’s eyes. “I could leave you here right now and have him instead,” he says softly. “If I wanted to. Like this…you really are my puppet, dancing the way I wish, aren’t you?”

 

A shudder slithers all the way down to Eichi’s toes, making them visibly curl as he arches, one measured pull proving Keito’s words right—tugging _does_ make that binding tighter, and that just makes Eichi’s cock twitch. “If being your puppet means I get to be inside you,” he groans, sagging back. “Don’t touch _his_ dick, touch _mine._ Please.” Asking nicely _did_ get him stepped on before, and if that’s what it takes to make Itsuki Shu do every single little thing that he likes, Eichi will take it.

 

Keito lets out a disappointed huff when Shu turns to Eichi, leaving him alone like he’s nothing more than a convenient distraction. “You think you’re worth that?” he asks delicately, and carefully undoes Eichi’s pants, pulls them down, then runs a fingernail up the side of Eichi’s cock. “You look so needy like this…what do you think I should do with something like this?”

 

 _Whatever you want_ , his mind dazedly supplies, which is certainly not helpful. Just that faint, whisper of a touch to his cock makes him bite his lip to keep back another sound as a droplet of precome beads at the tip and drips down the underside. “Use it,” Eichi breathlessly supplies, his fingers curling into his palms from the urge to _touch_. Fuck, it’s better that he can’t. He’d have already ripped that lingerie to shreds by now. “Please—I want…to watch you get off on it.”

 

The power is certainly going to Shu’s head. He lets a slow smile ripple across his face, then plucks his phone from his discarded bag, and snaps a few choice photographs. “For personal use,” he assures Eichi, then straddles him properly, unable to wait any longer. “Ah…when you remember this, remember me forcing you to wait for hours, please.” And that’s all he can handle before he sinks down, impaling his slick, clean hole onto Eichi’s thick cock without another second of waiting.

 

“Fuck— _fuck_ , fuck—“ It’s not especially eloquent, but Eichi doesn’t care when he’s suddenly, _completely_ buried inside of Shu’s ass, hilt-deep, wrapped in slick, clenching heat. His lower lip trembles until he bites it, muscles torn between arching up or remaining simply too-tense to bother, and reflex makes him yank at the binding on his arms, cinching it tighter until Keito’s tie digs into his skin. Sheer will power keeps him from coming immediately, though it leaves him flushed and out of breath, panting as he shifts to dig his heels into the bed and thrust up. “It’s been hours,” he reassures Shu, his eyes lidded. “Since you teased me…in that fucking broom closet.”

 

“It’s not teasing,” Shu groans, “if I immediately let you fuck me, bastard…ahh, but you’d better be right, I’m not going to stop until I’m satisfied.”

 

He rides down hard, ass slapping against Eichi’s thighs with every swift rock of his hips, lingerie lapping at Eichi’s skin every time he moves. “You love this,” he breathes. “When I use you for my pleasure, it—it gets you off, doesn’t it?” It gets him off too, so much that he can hardly breathe for the pleasure racing through his body.

 

Dimly, Eichi nods, his eyes fixated on the sweat that drips down Shu’s collarbone, the way it dissolves and disappears when it strikes against lace and cording. Shu’s nipples look painfully hard behind that sheer lace, and his fingers twitch with the urge to grab and pinch them—but nothing, _nothing_ is as overwhelming as the way Shu feels on his cock, moving without a care to anything but his own pleasure, grinding down onto him and making Eichi’s hips strain for more when he rocks up. “It’s bigger than your biggest toy, isn’t it?” he groans, biting his lip briefly when he feels his cock twitch inside, dripping steadily now. “So you m-might as well…put it to use…fuck…fuck, _Shu_ , hurry up and get off, I wanna see…”

 

Shu’s eyes lid, and he leans down, nibbling at Eichi’s earlobe as he whispers, “You _were_ bigger. After we…ah…I got a bigger one, just in case.”

 

And with that, he leans back, reaching up to pinch and tug at his own nipples before starting a bruising pace, slamming himself down with every thrust, mouth falling open with bliss, riding Eichi like a favorite horse. “Almost—just—“ He leans back farther, and gets Eichi’s cock right where he wants it, driving in deep, so perfectly he squeaks.

 

If the slick, heady friction around his cock didn’t steal his breath entirely, Shu’s words do. Watching Shu ride him, pinch and play with his own nipples, use him like he’s literally nothing but a sex toy made for him—all of that makes him so hard that Eichi gives up trying to _savor_ this, and just enjoys, rutting up when Shu grinds down, dying to hear that hitching little squeak of his voice again. “Please,” he whimpers, feeling his own legs tremble and cramp from trying to hold his hips just right for Shu to lean back and find that same spot again. Fuck, he’s going to feel this later, but it’s _worth it_.

 

Shu’s voice breaks, and he cries out when he finally comes, his abdomen tight and trembling, squeezing down hard on Eichi’s cock as if deliberately trying to wring the life out of it. He’s found he likes making himself come on Eichi’s cock, likes leaving Eichi utterly wrecked, likes finding those perfect spots inside himself and filling them with cock. It feels like an achievement, all the better when Eichi is trussed up for his use like a pretty present. “Get off in me,” he groans, reaching down to tweak one of Eichi’s nipples through his shirt.

 

Eichi needs no further encouragement. He couldn’t stop himself if he tried at this point, with every wound up bit of energy tossing him over the edge into an orgasm that’s _far_ too intense for someone who already came earlier that day—at least, he thinks so, when his vision blurs at the edges and he thrusts up desperately into Shu’s perfect, tight hole, back arched sharply as he spills with pulse after pulse. Anywhere else that Shu touches him feels like an electric shock, from his fingers on his nipple, to the scrape of lace against skin whenever he shifts or moves, and he groans, collapsing down, sweaty and trembling and definitely seeing double. “Fuck,” he whispers, his hands twisted back to grip at the tie, pulling it tighter in the process but needing _something_ to cling to. “You’re…way…way too good at this…”

 

Shu kneels for a moment, sweating and breathing and trying to get his mind back. Then he slumps forward, nestling into Eichi’s chest. “I am,” he agrees dazedly. “I’m the most skilled in the entire world.”

 

“Your hands are turning blue,” Keito butts in, tugging at the tie with one decidedly messy hand, freeing Eichi’s wrists. Notably, he avoids Shu’s eyes, though his cheeks are flushed pink.

 

“You are the most skilled in the entire world,” Eichi agrees with about as much coherency, which prompts him to grab Keito’s wrist with numb fingers, drag it to his mouth, and lick it clean with long, hungry swipes of his tongue. His other arm flops around Shu’s back, his fingers curling uselessly (possessively) against sweaty lace. “There,” he breathes, releasing Keito’s index finger with a sticky, wet _pop_. “Now I really don’t owe you 800 yen.” 

 

Keito looks down at Eichi, then promptly collapses next to both of them, grabbing a pillow and smushing it over Eichi’s face. “Just die,” he groans.

 

“I can’t stay.” Shu’s voice is regretful, more than he’d wanted it to be. “Family dinner. Mm, but give me a reason and I’ll go without cleaning.”

 

“More clothes to give me to jerk off to later because you’ve been dripping in them,” comes Eichi’s muffled response, riddled with laughter. “Ahh, I’m being suffocated for real…mm, it might be suspicious if you show up so sweaty, no matter how I want you to stay that way,” he mournfully says, pushing the pillow off eventually. “You can take a shower here, if you want. But let it be known I enjoy you sweaty and gross.”

 

Shu considers for a moment, then flops sideways, letting Eichi slip out of him. “All right, I’m going to clean up and then we can both pretend I didn’t. Can I do that here, or will I get caught?”

 

“Attached bath, perfectly safe,” Eichi supplies with a nod to the pair of French doors that don’t lead directly to his balcony, then slowly sits up with a wince, feeling very much like he’s been run through one of Wataru’s training from hell sessions thrice over. “Here, I’ll join you for a quick rinse. Keito, you…well,” he says with a laugh, slapping Keito’s ass as he quickly jumps off the bed. “You’re a good guard dog, aren’t you?”

 

“I hate you,” Keito calls, but it sounds entirely pleased.

 

Somehow, between the two of them, Shu and Eichi make it to the bathroom. “Somehow,” Shu says, looking at the marbled shower, “I was expecting…more. No offense, it’s quite nice, I was just expecting rainbow fountains to shoot foam in time with Beethoven’s Fourth or something.”

 

“My family has _taste_ , you know,” Eichi huffs, flipping on the shower with the touch of a keypad. “Though there is a built-in sound system in here, heh. Here, you can adjust the water temperature on the keypad. Sorry, I’m out of your lilac monstrosity, guess you’ll have to smell like me this time.”

 

“That seems like an acceptable trade,” Shu decides, and turns around, offering his back. “Dye me in your colors, as they say?”

 

“…Stop. I’m enjoying you too much, I won’t let you leave.”

 

“You haven’t paid me _that_ much, yet.”

 

“Don’t tempt me.” His heart thuds oddly, and Eichi sucks in a swift breath, plucking up a washcloth to start work on Shu’s back. “So. What you said before, when we were texting…”

 

Shu lets his eyes slide shut as the water cascades over him, and he shrugs one elegant shoulder. “I don’t sleep with just anyone, you know. I…” He swallows. “I’d prefer it was just you.” Simple, but he feels as if he’s said too much, and closes his eyes, waiting to be laughed at.

 

Eichi briefly goes over the past couple of days, and wonders how this actually _happened_. Didn’t this start because they were fighting and being petty? Isn’t this _stupid_ because they’ve been fighting and being petty since year one? Logic doesn’t seem to apply when Shu is offering him his back in _his_ shower after climbing on him and giving him arguably one of the best orgasms of his life. “I’m…sort of pathetically bad at keeping it in my pants,” he wryly admits, eyes lidded as he watches soap wash away down Shu’s back and legs. “So I can’t promise perfection in that regard. But…I’ll certainly…at least try? And ask, like with today, with Keito being here.”

 

Shu’s muscles stiffen, and he reaches back, grabbing the washcloth out of Eichi’s hand, scrubbing himself brusquely. “Forget it.”

 

“What? No, don’t be like that,” Eichi exasperatedly sighs, grabbing Shu by the arm to turn him around, pushing him back against the shower wall. “If you want something specific, ask for it instead of being bitchy.”

 

Shu glares at Eichi, wet hair falling in his face, and says quietly, “I thought we were having a romance, idiot. And you _always_ promise world domination, utter devotion, things you have no way of doing—but this, you can’t even give me? You can promise Wataru you’ll never turn your eyes away, but you can’t even pretend for one minute that you won’t cheat?”

 

“Ah.” Damn it, but he does hate when Keito’s right. “I didn’t realize…you actually wanted to date,” Eichi sheepishly admits, leaning back. “I thought this was just a sex thing, so I was _trying_ to be honest.”

 

Shu is silent for a minute, then says very quietly, “I don’t do just sex things. If that’s what you want…I’d rather not.” Mentally, he shrieks at himself not to give up the best sex he’s ever had, but is it really worth it?

 

“I didn’t say that! I didn’t say that. I—you—don’t you _hate me?_ ” Eichi peers down at him, frowning. “I’m not crazy, right? You absolutely hate me.”

 

“Is now really the time to bring that up?” Shu demands. “Why can’t you just—just respond to what I said? It’s—that’s the past, isn’t it?”

 

“It wasn’t three days ago.”

 

Shu inhales deeply, then folds his arms over his chest, letting hot water run over him. “I…hate so many things you’ve done,” he whispers. “But being like this with you…it changes things. Makes me wish it could have been different. If you could have just— _admitted_ you couldn’t win without cheating, if you just—if I just never knew about your family, if I’d kissed you in the rose garden, if—if I’d never met _him_ …”

 

He swallows hard, turning his face to let the water run down it. “When I’m with you, the past few days…it feels like I’m getting the chance to rewrite time. And I want to.”

 

Eichi knows he’s doomed when his first thought isn’t _you’ll always hate me, you can’t change that_ , but instead, _which ‘him’ and how do I never let you think about them again?_ He sucks in a measured breath before shutting his eyes, taking a step forward, and letting his head thunk down against Shu’s shoulder. “There’s no way I could’ve beaten someone like you without cheating,” he quietly says. “I don’t say it because it’s obvious.”

 

Some last cold, hard part of Shu breaks off inside, falling away like charred flesh once pale, pink skin has grown underneath. He breathes in deep, then pins Eichi against the wall, kissing him passionately, hands hot on his shoulders. “Let’s be fools in love,” he whispers, and somehow, his voice is steady. “As long as we can. Neither of us were properly ever children who got to have dreams.”

 

Eichi swallows, his tongue flicking out to wet his lower lip, nervous and excited all at once. _Bad idea, this is such a bad idea!_ his mind screams at him, but it’s easy to put that aside when Shu is kissing him and saying things that appeal to every one of his sensibilities. “We’re going to get in so much trouble,” he finally says with a wet laugh, lifting a hand to wipe hair out of his face (and discretely, more stinging, salty water than he’d like from his eyes). “Fine. Yes. I’ll be good, I swear. God, I can’t believe you just kissed me, Keito’s come is in there.”

 

“Bleh!” Shu spits, then directs a jet of water into his mouth, frantically swishing again before spitting it out, making a face. “Ugh, this is the worst thing that’s ever happened to me. I take it back, I’m going to go date Rei or something.”

 

“Don’t you dare,” Eichi growls, latching onto Shu and squeezing tightly. “Keito’s also been inside of him, so if that’s a turn-off, _keep that in mind._ ”

 

“I—thank you, for reminding me of my dear friend’s darkest chapter,” Shu says, but he’s laughing, and relaxes a bit at the reaction. “I suppose you’re stuck with me, then. If even Hasumi Keito’s sperm can’t dissuade me, I doubt anything will.”

 

“He’s never been inside of me, so I’m superior.” Eichi rubs his cheek against Shu’s shoulder. “Soo, does this mean we can’t do this kind of thing anymore? Because I really do enjoy making Keito see what he can’t have.”

 

Shu rolls his eyes. “We can do whatever we want,” he points out. “As long as we do it together. See, is that so bad?”

 

“Oooh. No, no, that’s good, I prefer that. Then I can keep tabs on whose hands are on you,” Eichi hums, nuzzling into the side of Shu’s neck, then kissing it, then biting it when he can’t help himself. “Only mine, by the way, are acceptable. Do you really have to go home to dinner?”

 

“Unfortunately.” Shu gently taps the tip of Eichi’s nose, driving him back. “And I don’t want to have to add ruffles any higher up than I already am. But I’m free tomorrow after practice.”

 

“But that’s tomorrow,” Eichi grumpily says, and in retaliation, nips again before releasing Shu begrudgingly. “Fine. I _guess_ you can go.”

 

Shu starts to say something, then cuts himself off, his eyes suddenly hungry, and very serious. “I know,” he says softly. “It’s never enough for me, either.”

 

Eichi groans, half-exasperated, half-turned on, shoving Shu back into the wall of the shower abruptly, his hands around that lean waist as he kisses him hard. “Stop _looking_ at me like that,” he breathes. “And saying things that make me hard.”

 

“But _everything_ makes you hard,” Shu points out breathlessly, and grabs the washcloth, shoving it in Eichi’s mouth as he dances out of reach. “Wash out Hasumi’s sperm and _maybe_ I’ll kiss you goodbye!”

 

Eichi chokes, spitting out the washcloth and soap with it. “You prissy bitch,” he hisses, throwing the washcloth at Shu’s back. “Next time I have you, I’m blowing you and making you taste it afterwards. All guys are gross, that’s the _fun_ part!”

 

“ _Obviously_ ,” Shu agrees, dodging the washcloth and neatly exiting the shower, reaching for an embarrassingly fluffy towel. “But I, unlike Hasumi, am not gross and _talentless_. That’s the difference. Goodnight!” Because he wouldn’t truly be a child of the theater without knowing out to exit a scene.

 


	9. Chapter 9

 

_Are we dating? Is that the word for it?_

 

Unwilling to be fooled again—Tsumugi taught him one too many unpleasant lessons—Eichi contemplates this for a solid week, then casually suggests the idea of an _actual_ date to Shu, who accepts. Right. Definitely dating. Shu made it clear that it wasn’t ‘just a sex thing’, but there are certainly levels inbetween—or so Eichi assumed. Maybe. Who knows. _We are definitely dating._

 

Eichi does _not_ tell Shu that he’s never had an actual boyfriend before. In fact, Keito is the only person he dares prod for advice, and when he’s met with eyerolling, he gives that up. Well, fine. He’ll just—do as he likes while attempting to not let either of their families know.

 

That means nothing delivered to Shu’s door, so Eichi does the next best thing as a broad, doting gesture—anonymous donations to the handicrafts club, which is met with skepticism by Tsumugi (shut up, honestly!) and that little pet that Shu totes around. Shu, at least, seems to be appreciative, and Eichi gloats over tea, the dulcet tones of Tori and Yuzuru’s squabbling adding a pleasant atmosphere to Yumenosaki’s rose gardens. One of Wataru’s birds flutters over and pecks at a sugar cube. Gingerly, Eichi removes the cube and sets it aside for the bird to do so…less obtrusively. Even if he likes birds, who knows what kinds of germs birds have, actually.

 

“Ah, you mustn’t give them too much sugar, Your Majesty,” Wataru says airily, swapping the sugar cube for a pile of seeds with a flick of his wrist and a bit of magic. “They’re quite delicate creatures, you know, who will break if shown too much cruel kindness. Much like my darling Shu, they are easy to destroy with the best of intentions.”

 

Eichi chokes on his next mouthful. He swallows too fast, the hot tea burning the roof of his mouth and throat, and he coughs, eyes watering as he attempts to _elegantly_ process that. He fails. “W-why are you bringing up Itsuki-kun?” he manages, hastily setting down his teacup. The bird makes a weird cooing noise.

 

Wataru smiles, entirely carefree—except for his eyes, which are startlingly cold in the cheerful afternoon sun. “I always see who my Emperor is looking at, Your Majesty. I never get tired of watching you.”

 

“T-that’s—“ Eichi sits back, his cheeks flushing. Damn it. Now he’s been thrown off-kilter in the worst way. Wataru obviously knows that, and that’s why he’s _pressing_ him. Then, it occurs to Eichi, troubling and frustrating, if not altogether justified. “You’re…concerned about him.”

 

Wataru pulls another bird out of…somewhere…and caresses its feathers, gently fluffing its crest with his fingertips. “Such delicate creatures, don’t you think? The attitude of apex predators, and the constitution of abject prey.”

 

His eyes glint as he looks over at Eichi, expression softening slightly. “I don’t question your intent, Your Majesty. Only his endurance. He is very dear to me.”

 

“ _He’s_ the one that—“ Eichi snaps his mouth shut, stewing over the words before he says anything…more incriminating. Not that Wataru doesn’t clearly already know, but how _much_ does he know? “I’m not attempting to test his endurance,” he mutters instead, reaching out for his teacup again. “Are you all going to rise up against me again if I do, though?”

 

“I wonder.” Wataru’s voice is contemplative, almost curious. “We are not what we once were, of course. Ah, but Your Majesty…” He reaches out, and runs a finger down Eichi’s cheek, down to his chin. “His endurance is not the only one I worry about.”

 

Eichi’s heart pounds, that way it _loves_ to do around Wataru—tenfold, when Wataru deigns to touch him. _Sorry, Shu, I’m very bad at keeping promises_ , he dimly thinks, swallowing slowly. “I—I’m not sure what you mean.”

 

“Yes,” Wataru says softly. “That is because I live to be inscrutable and difficult to understand. How wonderful, to succeed!”

 

“I—mean—yes? That’s lovely? But I wish you’d stop being so vague _right now_ , when this is something that I’m already struggling with?”

 

“A wish! Ah, how I love to decide whether to grant them or not!” Wataru laughs, clear and tinkling, hair swishing side to side. “I’ll give you a wish of mine, in return. That two men I love dearly will not hurt each other or themselves in the pursuit of love’s madness.”

 

 _Wataru says he loves me_ , his shitty brain wistfully, dazedly provides, which requires a sip of quickly cooling tea to muddle through. “Believe it or not, I have no intentions of deliberately troubling him this time,” Eichi huffs. “Though I am starting to question if there’s a conspiracy around _me_. Who else knows? Don’t be vague right now either, Wataru.”

 

“Rei, of course,” Wataru confesses merrily. “He knows everything, I think. He wanted to be the one to speak to you, but I managed to prevail.”

 

“If he knows, _everyone_ could know,” Eichi bemoans, slumping forward, chin in hand. “Thank you for coming between us, you are at least a dozen times more pleasant. Do us all a favor and report back to him that this isn’t some malicious scheme of mine, would you?”

 

“The world is a wonderful place, for love flourishes again!” Wataru looks genuinely delighted, and a flurry of petals bursts from his fingers, showering over both of them. “I am pleased for your happiness, Your Majesty. Long may you embrace!”

 

“Shhh,” Eichi hastily shushes him, fluttering a hand to try and keep the rose petals from going into his eyes. “This is supposed to be a _secret_ , Wataru, do keep that in mind—“

 

“Ehhh—who is Kaichou-sama embracing?” Tori pipes up, emerging from behind Eichi’s chair with narrowed, intent eyes. “They aren’t good enough. I’ll make Yuzuru kill them!”

 

 _Is this just going to be my life now?_ Eichi worriedly thinks, and spends the afternoon consoling Tori, and convincing him that no, he is not embracing anyone, Wataru is simply exaggerating.

 

That does remind him to warn Shu, in the event he hasn’t already been similarly accosted, and sneaking around to the handicrafts clubroom seems to be the safest way of doing so. What Eichi _doesn’t_ expect is for Shu’s little gremlin of a sycophant to also be there, and when he opens the door, he’s met with Mika’s low, inhuman growling, hands paused in handsewing something godawful. “Um,” he attempts. “Hello. Itsuki-kun…can we…speak in private, or…”

 

“Hush, Kagehira, cease that infernal racket.”

 

The noise Mika is making could be more accurately called a low rumble than an infernal racket, but Shu covers his ears nonetheless, moving to stand between the two of them. “This is club time,” he reminds Eichi quietly. “I’ll come with you, I’d rather not disrupt the flow of handicrafts. Kagehira, don’t touch my new serger, I’m in love with him.”

 

Mika hisses instead of growls this time, and Eichi bites down a choice response in favor of gloating. He’d so much rather listen to Mika hiss and Shu compliment the things _he’s_ bought him than deal with anyone else that could have been in this room. “Y’could sell that thing,” Mika says underneath his breath, his eyes fixed on Eichi, “and make a looooot of outfits.”

 

“Just a quick word,” Eichi says with a smile, holding his hands up disarmingly. “In the hall is fine, even.”

 

Shu nods briskly, then heads into the hall, closing the door behind them. Then he opens it again, hisses, “Do not sell my beautiful serger!” and shuts the door again, folding his arms over his chest. He looks left and right, then lets his mouth curve into a little smile. “Could you not wait to see me, hmm?”

 

“Partially true,” Eichi hums, planting a hand against the door and leaning closer. At least it isn’t unusual for him to be uncomfortably in Shu’s space at most times. _That_ doesn’t have to change. “But—unfortunately more pressing, were you aware that Wataru…knows about this?”

 

Shu’s eyes widen slightly, but he just sucks a breath in through his nose, then exhales deeply. “That is not altogether desirable, but hardly surprising. He’s always had a way of knowing, well, everything.”

 

“Sakuma-san told him.”

 

At that, a flare of something like nervous pain shoots across Shu’s face, and he huddles into the wall, unhappy. “Ah. That…that I hate.”

 

“So do I.” Eichi hesitates, glancing up to look up and down the hall once more before giving Shu’s cheek a poke. “I don’t want to, but I’ll say something to him, if you like. All of your friends think I’m going to rip you to shreds, and while that sounds delightful, I’d rather it be in a sexy way than what they are obviously inferring.”

 

Shu winces. “They can be…quite protective, the absolute idiots. I love them dearly, but would vastly prefer they do _not_ make asses of themselves in such a way. I’ll talk to Rei, it’s less likely to devolve into a screaming mess than if you were to confront him.”

 

“I don’t _scream_ ,” Eichi sniffs, leaning away again. “Does he think I’m building a harem? Why can’t you lot all be like Shinkai-kun, he’s perfectly pleasant.”

 

“I guarantee he thinks you are building a harem.”

 

“But I’m not! Wataru and I aren’t even—we’ve never.” Eichi nearly stomps his foot in frustration, his cheeks flushing pink. “If Sakuma-san refuses to keep his mouth shut after you talk to him, I’m _going_ to sic Keito on him.”

 

“He won’t tell anyone, he’s not a gossip.” Shu feels his mouth twist on the words, and he clarifies, “Not exactly. And he wouldn’t do it, because he doesn’t want to cause me any trouble. I think. Ah, I’ll just talk to him, he listens to me. Not as much as he should, but no one listens to me as much as they should.”

 

“I listen! But that’s because I’m an obvious intellectual equal that you should appreciate and praise for giving you what you need.”

 

Shu looks left and right again, then leans forward, planting a soft kiss on Eichi’s lips. “Thank you for the serger. I’ll make something that you will enjoy.”

 

Satisfied, Eichi steps back, a pleased smile on his face. “Don’t let your little cat in there sell it. But if he does, I’ll just get you another one—I’d rather not encourage that kind of behavior, though.”

 

“After how much you allowed Nagisa and Hiyori to do, I’d think you can afford to spoil me however I like,” Shu says loftily, though a flush rises in his cheeks. “I’ll talk to Rei this afternoon. And after…ah, perhaps, there’s a little bakery cafe I’ve been meaning to show you…?”

 

Eichi leans close again, his arm braced next to Shu’s head. “I can afford to keep you in the way which _I_ have become accustomed,” he murmurs. “So look forward to that. Line me the address, I’ll meet you there.”

 

“Five o’clock,” Shu says, and pulls out first a cup, then his phone. “I’m going to call him after I Line you, so go away now, I’ll meet you later.”

 

Eichi squints at the cup, then shakes his head, backing off. “Explain that to me at some point,” he orders as he turns away. “Because what the hell, actually.”

 

“No,” Shu says pleasantly, and puts the cup to his ear, tugging the cord attached to the end. “Rei? Hello?”

 

Rei, still dozing in his coffin in spite of the clamoring of his own club’s activities, flops over to grab the cup as the cord drags across his arm. “Hello,” he says around stifling a yawn. “If you’re contacting me, it must be to scold me.”

 

“Kindly stop gossiping about my love life,” Shu says tiredly, ignoring the way his heart flops over when Rei speaks. That’s rather obnoxious, still. “One would think you are constitutionally unable to keep your mouth shut.”

 

“Is it gossiping if I’m merely pointing out the obvious?” Rei idly asks, plopping his chin into one hand. “I only said something to Wataru, who was already suspicious. I just gave him more reason to be, and he’s an excellent way of monitoring evil little wraiths like Tenshouin.”

 

“Be sensible, Rei. My heart is fluttering nonstop. I am _trying_ to be a teenager and enjoy myself, as you’ve all pushed me to do countless times, lest you forget.”

 

“I don’t think it’s unreasonable,” Rei quietly follows up, “to be worried about you when you’re attempting to enjoy yourself with Tenshouin-kun.”

 

“Oh, like you’ve never done anything amusingly self-destructive? You tried to get me to try _heroin_ when you came back from England!”

 

“Shh, shh, there might be children around,” Rei hushedly says, glancing up over the edge of his coffin, then back to his cup phone. “Tenshouin-kun isn’t _amusingly_ self-destructive. He’s simply destructive, as he has proven in the past.”

 

“You’ve never slept with him,” Shu points out, winding the string of the cup around one finger. “You don’t know. He can be very amusing. I’m having a good time, isn’t that what you always encourage?”

 

“You sound like Wataru.” It isn’t accusatory, merely exhausted. “Shu. I only bring this up at all because I’m worried about you…and because of Natsume finds out, he’ll be heartbroken.”

 

Shu scowls. “It’s not like I expect any of you to understand, or to be…well. I was angrier than you were at Wataru, of course, so I fully expect to be embarrassed by this, but…it’s a fling, Rei. Don’t tell the boy, I don’t know what’s going to happen.”

 

“Does Tenshouin-kun know it’s a fling?” Rei mildly asks, fingers drumming against his cheek. “From everything I’ve heard, he seems quite infatuated, and we all know how that turns out. Do you have an interest in wearing white suits and singing choir music now, too?”

 

“Embarrass me if you must,” Shu says, with what he feels is a great amount of patience, “but do not insult me, or I’ll hang up on you. If he starts looking classically fashionable and singing songs with some drama, that’s how you’ll know it’s serious.”'

 

“A little bird told me someone donated quite a bit of equipment to the handicrafts club, so I suppose the former won’t be far off, now will it?”

 

Shu preens, though Rei can’t see it. “If it means I can properly outfit us, as well as buy Valkyrie some proper sound equipment—as far as I’m concerned, that’s merely our due coming back to me. He admitted he had to cheat in order to beat me, you know. I think I’m having a good effect.”

 

“He’s buying you.” Which is really the most irritating thing Rei has heard about this entire ordeal. “Shu. You know as well as I do that he’ll say what he has to in order to get what he wants. _Please_ —be careful.”

 

Shu’s face drops into a scowl. “He’s not buying my mind and soul, you know. He just likes spoiling me. Rei, at this point, you’re putting me in the very awkward position of having to defend him. Your concern is noted, but unless you want to suggest a replacement for him…”

 

“Funny you should mention that. There’s this _lovely_ theater addict named Hibiki Wataru who has the shared interest of terrifying blonde demons, and he _also_ happens to be single—“

 

“Don’t be an idiot, Wataru isn’t _dateable_. He’s a force of nature. And uninterested in me, obviously, because of his utter lack of taste.”

 

“Now you’re just making excuses. Keep an open mind. And don’tyou dare turn that around on me, Tenshouin-kun is excluded from all right minds.”

 

“At least I’m not dating a _mystery._ ”

 

“Delightful. Trust me, he was everything but mysterious last night.”

 

An old, familiar hurt thrums at Shu’s belly. “Yes, well. Congratulations. If that’s all, I have a new serger to keep Kagehira from hawking for cash.”

 

“Don’t ‘if that’s all’ me, Shu; you called _me_ ,” Rei sighs, rubbing at the bridge of his nose. “If…anything should happen. Anything at all. You know you can tell me. Don’t forget that.”

 

“Rei…” _If only you had loved me the way I’d wanted you._ “Of course. You’re one of the only friends I have left.”

 

 _It wouldn’t have been that way, if I had been there to protect you in the first place._ “Take care of yourself,” Rei quietly offers up before lowering his cup phone and flopping face down again.

 


	10. Chapter 10

 

“Don’t turn around.”

 

Shu’s voice is suddenly very serious, very quiet, and very intent. He raises his glass to his lips, the rest of him completely frozen, eyes narrowed. It’s a sudden and total departure from how he’d been a moment before—amused, affectionate, at ease—so much that he seems like a different person. Behind his cup, he says quietly to Eichi, “Don’t even blink, don’t look over your shoulder. That idiot ex-member of your unit just walked in to ruin our date. If we’re very quiet, maybe he won’t notice us.”

 

‘Idiot ex-member’ could refer to _any_ of that brigade of three. Not willing to take a chance, Eichi casually thumbs up his mask back over his face. Easy level is Nagisa—he won’t remember it later, or care in the first place. Annoying level is Tsumugi—he’ll disrupt by simply being in the area, though probably not say anything. But outright unsafe level—that’s Hiyori, and judging from Shu’s expression—“Get up and leave,” he lowly says, glancing down to his phone as a distraction. “Nothing I do will spare me, but you can still escape.”

 

“If I stand up, he’ll see me,” Shu points out. “Just…I don’t know. Pretend you’re threatening me or something, he’s stupid enough to buy that.”

 

“Heyyy, Teiou-san! And, oh my god, heh, it’s Eichi-kun, too? Wow! What are you all doing here? Ah, I have to text Jun-kun about this, he won’t care but I have to text him anyway, what are you guys _doing_ here?” A melon roll dangles from Hiyori’s hand, then slowly falls to the floor, which Hiyori does not seem to notice.

 

Listening to Hiyori talk kills more of his braincells than losing oxygen to the brain. Eichi would know. He grits his teeth, twisting in his chair to glare at Hiyori directly. “Dealing with a few business matters that don’t concern you. Um, you dropped your…” Never mind, why does he even try with this guy?

 

Hiyori looks down at the roll, then shrugs and grabs another one from the shelf. “I’m taking this,” he announces to the cashier, leaving the other one on the floor. “Nii-san over here will take care of you, okay?”

 

He clearly intends to sit at the table, but it’s a two-seater, so he cocks his head at the salaryman eating next to Shu. “Hi, can I sit here? This guy will pay you, right, Eichi-kun?”

 

“I’m not paying someone so you can sit where they’re sitting,” Eichi exasperatedly says, his good humor almost impossible to even _fake_ around Hiyori when he’s on his worst behavior. It’s like having a particularly terrible, misbehaving dog, and just thinking about that makes him huffily add: “Sit on the floor, that’s where dogs belong.” It’s unfortunate that statements like that have caused some…troublesome things with Hiyori before, and—he briefly glances up to Shu. Well. Shu doesn’t know that.

 

Shi raises an eyebrow at both of them when Hiyori drops down to a low squat, then immediately jumps up again. “Aww, that hurts in these pants, I should’ve gone to Shuuetsu after all, boo. Ah, but I can’t leave Jun-kun, you know?”

 

“Literally no one cares,” Shu says tiredly. Now that he’s been spotted, and he doesn’t feel as if he can reasonably escape, he just feels tired.

 

“What are you guys doing together, anyway?” Hiyori asks, blatantly refusing to read the mood. “Itsuki-kun, I thought you were all crazy now.”

 

“I told you, this is a business meeting.” Eichi tugs his mask back down to take a sip of tea, deciding that if he doesn’t meet Hiyori’s eyes or give him a place to be, he’ll leave faster. “Didn’t you skip a party because you had a cold recently? You shouldn’t be near me. I’ll tell your father.” _Maybe_ that will work. If Hiyori says _one more thing_ about ‘Jun-kun’, Eichi thinks he’ll end up killing him.

 

“Aww, be nice, you’re always so mean these days.” Hiyori laughs. “I thought you’d be more easygoing now that you’re getting laid all the time, right? Hey, hey, how’s Tsumugi-kun? Is he doing okay? Are you two talking? Have you made up?”

 

“Enjoy your floor roll,” Shu says swiftly, and makes a break for it, dashing out of the cafe to flop back against the wall, heart pounding hard.

 

Eichi barely resists the urge to dart after Shu, and it’s only the reassurance that _he escaped, thank god_ that stops him. “Who said I’m getting laid all the time?” Eichi grouses instead, resigning himself. “Tsumugi and I don’t talk. Stop asking him about him, I hate it.”

 

Hiyori slides into Shu’s seat, happily ignoring Shu’s departure as he bites into his roll. “Aw, that’s sad, I was really rooting for you guys. You aren’t even _asking_ about me and Jun-kun, or me and Nagisa-kun, rude! Hey, what’s with that creepy doll Itsuki had, huh?”

 

“That’s what he carries around now when he’s feeling insecure, which is always,” Eichi dryly says, dropping his chin down into one hand. “I’m not asking about your, um, interests, because you still text me, so I know nothing is going on.”

 

“That’s not true at all, c’mon! I told you yesterday how Jun-kun didn’t slam the door on my face, how can you call that nothing?”

 

“Fine, I’ll call it a soft rejection,” Eichi sweetly offers up. Insulting Hiyori isn’t making up for ruining his date, but it’s softening the blow slightly. “He’s not into you.”

 

“Don’t make it weird, I’m not into Jun-kun like that!” Hiyori stares at the salaryman next to them, who hurriedly looks away. “You don’t need to look at me, we’ve both got really famous lawyers, you know!”

 

“You know it’s _stupid_ to talk about liking other men in public, right?” Eichi lowly points out, plucking up a tiny spoon to stir his tea. “If you were wearing a mask, I would give you a pass, but here you are. Just…being yourself. Terribly. Anyway, you act like you’re into him like that, from an outsider’s perspective.”

 

“Please, if anyone’s a _homo_ here, it’s you,” Hiyori says at the same volume he’s been at the entire time. “Don’t act like you’re shy _now_ , wasn’t it onstage before the Live that you sucked Tsumugi’s—“

 

Eichi’s hands slam down onto the table before he pushes away, ripping his bag from the back of his chair as he climbs to his feet. “I _told you_ not to talk about him,” he icily says. “I’m done here. Here’s a tip for you and Jun-kun—learn to keep your mouth shut or no one will ever like you.”

 

Hiyori pouts, and crosses his legs. “Don’t be so rude, Eichi-kun. Wow, I’ll just ask Itsuki what’s going on, I’ll go to his house, I know where it is, his mom likes me!”

 

“Don’t you dare.” Fuck. He hates Hiyori. “Get up and walk with me or I’ll drag you out of here by your hair.”

 

“Yay! Going on a walk with Eichi-kun, this is just like our old walks where you used to threaten me!”

 

“How do you survive on a daily basis?” Eichi mutters underneath his breath, irritated with himself that he actually stops to pay for Hiyori’s stupid bread roll, too. He flips out his phone, waiting for Hiyori to flounce along behind him.

 

**To: Itsuki-kun**

**Subject: ugh**

**i’m going to get rid of him eventually. can we meet up later or are you busy**

 

**To: Tenshouin**

**Subject: :|**

**Get rid of him and you can have whatever you want from me.**

 

**To: Tenshouin**

**Subject: Ah**

**I won’t lick you back there, though. That’s still just your fetish.**

 

**To: Tenshouin**

**Subject: …**

**You can do it to me, though, if you must. If you get rid of him.**

 

Hiyori flounces up behind Eichi, finishing up his melon roll as he latches on to Eichi’s elbow. “Hey, let’s go to an arcade! Can you spot me?”

 

“Sure,” Eichi says, fairly certain he can abandon Hiyori at an arcade, if nothing else. That sounds easy enough. “You know, if I ever see you talking to Itsuki-kun or anyone in his family, I’ll kill you myself.”

 

**To: Itsuki-kun**

**Subject:**

**working on it :) :) :) i might kill him. dont worry i have a good lawyer**

 

**To: Tenshouin**

**Subject: Well**

**I should hope so. I wouldn’t put this on for someone that doesn’t.**

 

“Ehhh?” Hiyori tilts his head far to the other side, blinking innocently. “But he’s a friend of mine, right? And you’re a friend too, you know. I mean, you’re kind of a dick, but we had good times, right?”

 

“He’s not your friend. He hates you. Or did you forget about that?” Eichi patiently says, shoving his phone away for now. “Anyway—like I said, it was a business meeting that you interrupted. I’m buying him. Well, his talent, but whatever. Don’t interfere, and don’t bring it up to his family, or he’ll hate you more than he already does.”

 

Hiyori rolls his eyes. “Whatever. Hey, you know how to buy tokens at an arcade, right? I remember the ice cream fiasco…heh, remember that? When you and Nagisa got stuck and you had to call your bodyguards? Aw, I miss when we were all friends.”

 

“I’ve been to an arcade, screw you,” Eichi sniffs. Probably what he hates about Hiyori the most is that he brings up _everything_ from the past too much. At least he has cash on him for _once,_ all the better to lure Hiyori away with—Shu, it turns out, enjoys many small cafes that don’t exactly like credit cards or checks. “You’re going to get in a lot of trouble one day, you know.” He also hates that Hiyori makes _him_ sound like a nagging mother. That’s Keito’s job, damn it.

 

“You sound like Keito,” Hiyori says with a huff. “He’s _boring_ , you know. You used to whine about him aaaaalll the time…hey, do you think it would be easy to get Jun-kun to take the exams for Shuuetsu? I miss Nagisa-kun. Did I tell you what that creep Ibara said the other day in Eden practice? If he keeps being creepy I’m totally not going to let him fuck me.”

 

“That. That right there. At least wait until you’re behind a closed door—didn’t your dad yell at you last time?” Scolding Hiyori is a too-familiar habit to fall into, and damn it, he _does_ sound like Keito. “One of these days, you’re going to get caught for real, and I’m not being your alibi again.”

 

Hiyori pouts. “You’re soooo mean, what did I ever do to you? I’m fun to be around, right?”

 

“Well, just today, you tried to out me in the middle of a cafe? So that’s less fun, more stressful. My face is on billboards, you know!”

 

“Um, exactly? No one would believe it, right? Because you’re famous! Duh!”

 

“If enough people say it, then people will believe it,” Eichi hisses, stopping in front of the arcade and grabbing Hiyori by the arms to shake him. “You’re sooo stupid. How do you even remember how to breathe, huh? Also, don’t let Ibara fuck you, he’s _so weird._ ”

 

Hiyori smirks. “I knew you cared about me, Eichi-kun. I’m worried about Nagisa-kun, he’s too open and sweet, that snake could do anything to him.”

 

“So transfer there and do something about it.” Eichi sighs, rocking back on his heels. Damn, he hadn’t wanted to get drawn back into this. “Your Jun won’t go, you know that. And you’re too nosy and loud, Ibara won’t share any plans with you. All you can do is follow Nagisa around like a stray cat if you don’t transfer there directly. Speaking of cats, _please_ stop trying to sext me.”

 

Hiyori ignores most of that because he doesn’t like it, latching on to the last bit. “But I’m _horny_ , no one sexts me off like you. You’re so good with words…” Something glints in his eyes. “Unless you’re not _available_ anymore, huh? You gone exclusive with someone?”

 

“Yes. Keito. We’re dating, for real.”

 

Hiyori gasps. “Awwww, really? Oh my god, congratulations!” He pokes Eichi in the shoulder. “You should have said something, does Tsumugi know?”

 

Holy shit, it’s amazing how stupid Hiyori is, actually. “If you bring him up _one more time_ , I’m going to _eat you._ ”

 

“Like…” Hiyori steps closer, exaggeratedly leaning close to whisper, “In a sexy way? Or like, in a vore way? Do you know what vore is?”

 

“Yes, I know what  _vore_  is, I’m dating  _Hasumi Keito._ ” Keito is definitely the best excuse. Eichi hasn’t had to pull that card out for awhile, but it works splendidly now. “We  _just_  discussed how I’m exclusive now,” Eichi sweetly says, grabbing Hiyori by the shoulders to push him back. “I’m not going to eat you in a sexy way. Here, look, why don’t you go buy some tokens?” He pulls out a 5000 yen bill, fluttering it in front of Hiyori’s face. “And I’ll meet you when you find something cute you want to try for twenty million times.” 

  


  


Hiyori snatches the bill, looks at the denomination, and pouts. “That’s all? You used to spoil me so nicely, what ever happened to us?”

  


  


“You changed schools and left my unit? Obviously? Also,  _you keep trying to out me,_  stop it!” 

  


  


“Don’t be  _stingy_ , it’s like you  _want_  me to talk really loudly about how you’ve got a  _boyfriend_ ,” Hiyori says with a little glare, voice rising on each word, hand extended, palm up, fingers twitching.

  


  


“At least I don’t  _sext_  people who don’t  _want you_  and talk all the time about wearing a cat collar with a  _little bell on it,_ ” Eichi snaps back, his sense of humor finally fraying. “Your older brother’s hotter!” 

  


  


Hiyori blinks, looking utterly flummoxed. “Why would I want to sext my brother?”

  


  


“Oh my god, follow the conversation! I’m  _saying_  I sext your brother way more than I sext you, because he’s  _hotter than you._ ”

  


  


Hiyori’s head tilts to the other direction. “I thought you said you were exclusive?”

  


  


Eichi gives up, forks out another bill, and tosses it into Hiyori’s face as a distraction before turning on his heel. “I’m done, fuck you, don’t sext me again!” 

  


**To: Itsuki-kun**

**Subject: UGGGGGH**

**I HATE HIM SO MUCH HE MAKES ME WANNA SCREAM**

  


  


“I’ll send you a pic! I got a bell!”

  


**To: Tenshouin**

**Subject: Distraction**

**I’m wearing this right now and waiting near the hotel.**

**newlingerie.jpg**

  


  


Eichi’s irritation flutters to an abrupt halt, and he nearly trips over a crack in the sidewalk. 

  


**To: Itsuki-kun**

**Subject: ah**

**thanks. i feel instantly cleansed. do i get to touch this one**

  


  


**To: Tenshouin**

**Subject: :)**

**It was made to be touched. There are tearaway panels. You get to discover which ones those are.**

  


  


**To: Itsuki-kun**

**Subject: stooooop**

**i still have to walk, damn it. you still have a key, right? go up to the room, it’s the same one as always. i’ll meet you up there**

  


**To: Keito**

**Subject: btw**

**told hiyori we were dating to get him off my back. heads up if he’s smart enough to follow up and ask you /o/**

  


Eichi shoves his phone away, shaking away the lingering anxiety and irritation that Hiyori always seems to drag out of him. He half-expects his phone to start buzzing immediately, courtesy of Hiyori whipping out his collar and taking pictures of himself wearing it in public. What an idiot. 

  


At least there’s no one to hassle him upon arrival, except for a familiar greeting from the doorman and the front desk. He’s stressed and moody now, which makes for a jittery elevator ride and a few extra glances about before he flips out the keycard to their usual hotel room and steps inside.

  


  


Already stripped down to his lingerie, Shu kneels on the bed, looking over his shoulder at the doorway. One corner of his lips quirks up. “I’m not really that horny yet,” he admits, “but I really appreciate you getting rid of that creep. So you can touch me and get me in the mood.”

  


  


“Good, same, I’m still trying to get rid of his  _ooze_ ,” Eichi bemoans, shucking his coat at the door to leave himself in his buttondown and waistcoat before he beelines to the bed to get his hands on Shu. Just  _touching him_  sounds nice right now. “I know you think I’m as dumb as a rock, but humor me—Hiyori’s dumber, right?” 

  


  


Shu twists around, extending his arms and wrapping them around Eichi’s waist, tugging him close. “You don’t smell like ooze,” he assures Eichi. “And if I really thought you were as stupid as that imbecile, I’d put you out of your misery.” Damn, it does feel nice just to have Eichi in his arms. How obnoxious.

  


  


“I’d beg you to,” Eichi says with a sigh, climbing onto the bed and flopping onto his side. It’s easier to drag Shu close to him, his fingers curling against smooth skin,  sheer, silky material, and fine lace. “Sorry about him either way. He  _cannot_  take a hint.” 

  


  


Shu nuzzles into Eichi’s neck, wrapping a leg around his hips. “Shh, he’s gone and I smell good. And I…I’m angry at him, because against all odds, I was really enjoying our date.”

  


  


Eichi stuffs his face down into Shu’s hair, then into his neck, breathing in deep. “You’re right, you smell good,” he murmurs, his fingers stroking slowly down Shu’s spine. “If it makes you feel better, he’s not getting laid at all, and it’s hilarious.” 

  


  


“You have no  _idea_  how little I think about Hiyori Tomoe’s love life.”

  


  


“Fair, but he tries to sext me. I have no choice but to know about it.” 

  


  


Shu’s eyes flare, and he tangles his hand in Eichi’s hair, tugging him close for a sudden deep kiss. “Block his number,” he whispers. “You gave him Wataru or Hasumi as an excuse, right? That’s what I’d have done. Not with Hasumi, but he’s what you have to work with.”

  


  


Eichi fumbles with words for a moment, taken off-guard by Shu’s mouth and how obviously possessive that kiss was. “I…yes, of course, I told him to stop because Keito and I were exclusive, and obviously, he’ll cover for me,” he mutters, shifting to slide a thigh between Shu’s as he grabs his face up in his hands, pulling him in for another kiss. “I can’t block his number. But ignoring him makes him angrier, so that’s better.” 

  


  


Shu returns the kiss, but pulls back, frowning slightly. “Would you block him if I asked you to? You don’t need him for anything, right?”

  


  


“…Family politics make that touchy,” Eichi admits with a grimace, running a thumb along the curve of Shu’s shoulder. “They’re broke, but still important. I have to play nice or he’ll run his mouth, and he knows  _exactly_  how gay I am.” 

  


  


“You said yourself that they can’t disown you, right?” Shu certainly hopes he’s remembering that right, since his own family is really nothing like a safety net, not these days. “And Hiyori isn’t exactly a credible source, they must know that.”

  


  


“Well, yes, but that doesn’t mean I want to be scolded or locked in my bedroom,” Eichi huffs, rolling them to flatten Shu onto his back. “I thoroughly enjoy my freedom. It lets me do things like this.” 

  


  


“On second thought, we should just ensure Hiyori’s silence,” Shu decides, grabbing a pillow to tug it under his head, then winding his arms around Eichi, marveling at how  _right_  they feel entwined together. “Don’t kill him or anything, I don’t want my words taken out of context.”

  


  


“Oh, damn, I thought you were finally signing off on murder,” Eichi laughs, bracing his arms next to Shu’s head as he bends down to kiss him again. “There’s not much for him to say, anyway…I told him I was buying you. In an entertainment, business sense, heh. He does  _not_  care.” 

  


  


“He’s always been a bit afraid of me, I think,” Shu confirms, bending his neck up to return Eichi’s kisses, letting his hands slide down to splay over Eichi’s back. “I’m much,  _much_  smarter than he is, so he fears me.”

  


  


“His loss,” Eichi cheerfully replies, starting to relax and actually feel better now that Hiyori isn’t present, and Shu is  _very_  warm and pleasant to touch. “I think smart guys are hot. Has anyone ever told you,” he says, amused as he bends to kiss Shu again, his teeth catching Shu’s lower lip gently, “that you kiss like a girl? It’s a compliment, by the way.” 

  


  


“You know no one ever has,” Shu reminds him, a smile curling over his mouth as he lets his back arch, feeling the drag of Eichi’s expensive suit against his lingerie. “I  _was_  a virgin when we first made love.”

  


  


“A disservice. Someone should’ve at least kissed you,” Eichi huffs, shifting to splay a hand against Shu’s chest, thumb idly stroking over a nipple through the sheer fabric. “You’re calling  _that_  making love now? That was fucking, there’s a difference.” 

  


  


A shiver rakes its way through Shu’s body, and he lets a hand drag down Eichi’s back, letting his nipples press up against Eichi’s hand. “M-maybe for you,” he breathes, feeling his blood start to buzz. “Which do you want to do today, hmm?”

  


  


“Ahh, sorry, I forgot…you’re s~o virginal still, I have to teach you everything,” Eichi teases, his back arching underneath the stroke of Shu’s hand. His fingers gently twist that nipple again, savoring the way Shu jerks underneath the touch. “I suppose I should show you the difference…and we’ve got some time, don’t we?” 

  


  


“I’m free all night.” Shu smiles, eyes warm as he squirms, letting his thighs part. “My parents think I’m at Kiryuu’s, and Kagehira is with his, ah, jock. So, you think you can teach me something…Sensei?”

  


  


That’s more time than Eichi has, but he doesn’t tell Shu that. He’ll handle being late or in trouble for this at least  _once_. “Think? I know,” he says with a snort, sitting up to tug Shu’s thighs more comfortable about his hips, letting his weight settle between them. Rubbing down against lean muscle wrapped in satin and lace makes him shiver, and Eichi’s mouth fastens to the side of Shu’s neck, sucking, lightly biting. “You’re so pretty like this,” he sighs. “When do I get to dress you up as my date and take you to a party for real, hmm?” 

  


  


The idea makes Shu blush, and he squeezes his thighs around Eichi’s hips, pulling him in close, cradling his body. “When your parties aren’t awful,” he suggests. “And the guests aren’t my family’s enemies. Nn, so is this time making love, or fucking?”

  


  


“Making love.” Eichi’s teeth catch against the stud of Shu’s earring, his tongue wrapping around it briefly. “What if I dressed you up as a girl and swept you off your feet like that?” he idly asks, reaching up to loosen his tie. “You could just cling to my arm all night.” 

  


  


“I would be beautiful,” Shu points out, eyes sharpening as he watches Eichi loosening his tie, the simple act making his cock swell. “But very tall. And I don’t do a good female voice.”

  


  


“So don’t talk. Just be lovely, and actually be able to follow me on the dance floor. Maybe you’re a foreigner, and I’m being a perfect gentleman, taking care of you like that.” Eichi smiles, leaning down to steal another kiss as he tosses his tie away. “The idea of you in a dress has always done it for me, heh. Especially,” he adds, sliding a hand down Shu’s stomach to pluck at the lace hem of his panties, then drags his palm over the quickly hardening line of his cock. “When this is underneath.” 

  


  


“Eh? You like it that much, hmm?” Shu smiles, and makes quick work of the buttons on Eichi’s shirt, stripping him efficiently. “You should let me put you in some. White and pale blue, it would look lovely against your pale skin…” He arches, rubbing against Eichi like an affectionate cat. “And the way it  _feels_ …”

  


  


“I wouldn’t say no to that,” Eichi murmurs, shrugging off his shirt and waistcoat, but not bothering with his belt yet as he slides down with a brisk, warm kiss pressed to Shu’s stomach along the way. “I’ll wear whatever you throw at me, so keep that in mind. But for now—“ He stops talking only to mouth over the line of Shu’s cock, his hands curling around those lean thighs to keep them apart. 

  


  


Shu’s head thunks back against the pillow, eyes closing as his hands curl into Eichi’s hair, urging him down. The hot, wet pressure on his cock makes him tremble down to his toes, and he hisses, thunking his feet against the bed helplessly. “That—ahh, that’s not what I thought you were goinig to—nnh, Eichiiiii—“

  


  


“I told you, I’d teach you how to give the world’s best blowjob at some point,” Eichi lowly reminds him, a smug little smile on his lips as he closes them around the head of Shu’s cock through fabric, mouthing a warm, wet kiss there. “Mm…the lube’s on the nightstand there,” he idly points out, not glancing up as he peels Shu’s panties down. “Toss it down here.” 

  


  


Eagerly, Shu grabs the lube and hands it down, wriggling to help Eichi pull the panties down and off. “I, ah…I think you’ve gotten me addicted,” he breathes, pupils blown in pleasure and anticipation. “Even when I’m alone, I don’t…I have to go from the other side…”

  


  


“Whoops,” Eichi cheerfully says, throwing Shu’s panties over his shoulder and then, one long, slender leg to leave it hooked there, spreading him open further. “It’s not so bad to be an addict, I think,” he murmurs, uncapping the lube to drip it over a pair of fingers before his mouth returns to Shu’s cock, that lacy barrier gone now and letting his tongue drag flatly over the head, lapping at him when that pair of fingers slides smoothly into Shu’s hole. 

  


  


The second Eichi’s fingers slide in, Shu lets out a choked gasp, hips arching up hard, cock jerking into Eichi’s mouth, hungry and desperate to get more of that sweet friction. “I’m, I’m paying attention to the lesson,” he groans, nails digging into Eichi’s scalp.

  


  


“Good. Now you know the best way to shut me up.” 

  


Eichi steadies Shu’s hips with his other hand, holding him still—mostly. He  _does_  like it when Shu squirms and arches against him, even if it means sucking that pretty, perfect cock into his mouth is more difficult. His fingers press in deeper, stroking slowly, lightly for now when Eichi swallows him down, the first bob of his head taking him about half-way, and the second the rest of the way, nestling Shu’s cock far down his throat with a pleased, muffled groan as he sucks and licks.

  


  


Shu doesn’t even try to stop the inevitable. He’d been too worked up by the fear and nerves earlier, too excited at putting on the lingerie, too compromised by the way Eichi’s touching him. It takes only a few beautiful thrusts into Eichi’s perfect mouth before he’s spilling, tightening down on Eichi’s fingers as he fills Eichi’s mouth, cock bumping against the back of his throat. “Eichi…nnh, that’s so—your mouth—“

  


  


Eichi swallows deliberately, drawing back only at the end to lick the tip of Shu’s cock, sucking on it before releasing him. He slithers up, grabbing Shu’s face in one hand to kiss him hard, shoving his tongue into his mouth with a grin. “Told you I’d make you taste it next time,” he breathlessly says. “Though, mm, you taste better than like…any guy I’ve ever tasted? What the hell.” 

  


  


Shu licks, tasting the flavor, then blinks, and nods slightly. “Good, my carefully constructed diet has one of the intended effects. So, is that the lovemaking you wanted to show me? I like it.”

  


  


“It’s a start,” Eichi lightly says, straightening up and letting his hands drop to his belt, flipping open the buckle. “Wait, do you seriously eat what you do so that your come tastes good?” 

  


  


Shu can’t keep his hands down, rising to help Eichi take his trousers off, then just touching, pressing, squeezing, stroking at the bulge there. “I, ah…” It’s hard to keep track of words and conversations when he can feel that hot, straining cock, and knows it’ll be in him soon. “Baked goods and fruit juice, mostly, I’ll write up the diet plan if you just, just put it in me, you’ve got to be horny by now, right? You want to be in me, don’t you?”

  


  


Eichi groans as he lurches forward, rubbing into the touch of those perfect, long fingers and smooth palm. “Fuck your diet plan,” he breathes, turning his head to suck on the side of Shu’s neck as he hooks his thumbs into his trousers to peel them down and off. “All I want is to be in you.  _You_  make me stupid, you know.” 

  


  


“Then get in me,” Shu urges, lifting one flexible leg to drape it over Eichi’s shoulder, “and stay in me. That’s where you belong—I know it, every time you’re in me, I never want you to pull out…”

  


  


“I’ll keep that in mind when you whine at me later,” Eichi breathlessly laughs, grabbing the bottle of lube hurriedly to drag a slick hand down his cock. Just touching himself makes his breath hitch, and easing himself to that slick hole, eyes lidded, makes his pulse thud and cock twitch before he even pushes inside. 

  


He means it when he says no one takes cock like Shu. Sinking inside feels like sliding  into hot, slick perfection, squeezing tightly around him, and Eichi groans as he shoves forward, bracing a hand onto the bed to quickly grind in as deep as he can go. “Better?” he rasps, pressing a wet kiss to Shu’s shoulder. “Ahh…fuck, it just fits in you so nicely, doesn’t it…”

  


  


“It’s where…where it belongs.”

  


Shu’s voice is a choked gasp, and he arches down, grinding himself onto that perfect cock. It’s too big, it’s  _always_  too big, but it makes him twist and writhe, makes him feel as if he’s gotten too tight, too delicate each time Eichi forces his way inside. Eichi  _does_  feel perfect inside of him, enough that Shu’s cock swells back to full hardness immediately. He drops a hand down to press against his belly, as if he could feel a bulge in there from their joining. He can’t, but the idea is nice, and he squeezes down, eyes opening to look up into Eichi’s. “Is this…still lovemaking? Is that what we’re making together?”

  


  


“I’m taking my time, aren’t I?” Eichi groans, sliding his hands to Shu’s waist to hike his hips up more when he thrusts in—slow, in spite of how it makes his muscles twitch from the urge to rut in harder, savoring the way Shu shudders and clenches around him. “I like to think…whenever we’re not just frantic to tear each others’ clothes off and do it…that’s making love,” he sighs, sliding one hand languidly upward to thumb over one of Shu’s hard nipples. “And you just feel  _good_  like this, so I’m going to enjoy you. Ahh, look how hard you are already, good boy.” 

  


  


Shu’s cock twitches against Eichi’s belly, and a tear squeezes out from behind his eyelids. He drags Eichi down for a kiss, nibbling and sucking on his lips, sucking on his tongue as he flops back. “I just want to…enjoy this, too,” he murmurs, reaching a hand down past his cock, to trace the line of Eichi’s cock as it slides into his stretched hole. “I can come just from this, this is how I like it…”

  


  


“Most people…don’t like it when it’s in all the way, you know,” Eichi gasps, Shu’s fingers brushing against him as he thrusts in making his vision blur. He trembles, self-control fraying, and he thrusts in harder, his knees bracing down into the bed for more leverage. “But that’s why you’re better,” he breathes, his hair falling forward as he grinds in slowly, kissing Shu between breaths. “I’ll, ahh…I’ll try to take my time, but you feel so fucking good…” 

  


  


Shu’s hand tightens in Eichi’s hair, hard enough to yank out a couple of strands, keeping him in place. “Don’t,” he breathes, even as his nipples harden, rubbing against Eichi’s chest, “talk about other people when you’re making love to me. This is—it’s all mine, isn’t it?”

  


  


Eichi shudders, sinking down onto his elbows, bending to the pull on his hair. His cock throbs, twitching as his hips thrust in harder on their own accord, and he feels himself drip inside, making Shu even slicker. “Careful,” he manages, his eyes fluttering. “Saying shit like that…will make me come even faster.” 

  


  


“I don’t care when you come.” Shu uses the strength in his thighs to yank Eichi closer, rolling his hips with every thrust, taking Eichi deep inside, eyes fluttering every time he sinks in the whole way. “As long as you do it inside me.”

  


  


“Fuck,” Eichi pants out against Shu’s shoulder, his teeth briefly snapping against it as he gives up, and snaps his hips in hard, burying his cock all the way to the hilt again, and again. His fingers bite into Shu’s skin, squeezing him around the waist as he yanks him down onto his cock. “You’re right, though,” he groans, gritting his teeth at that tight, sweet squeeze of Shu around him. “It’s—it’s all yours, whenever, however you want it—“

  


That’s the last of his self-control, and Eichi shoves in with a breathless, bitten-back groan, their skin slapping and sticking together when he buries himself completely, coming in long, slick pulses deep inside. 

  


  


To some degree, Shu can’t fathom caring whether he comes or not. As long as Eichi is inside him, colors swirl in front of his eyes, and the blood beats hard in his pulse points. Everything is slick and tight, and he clings to Eichi’s back, strong hands digging in to lean muscles and pale skin. “Just like that,” he groans, closing his eyes, savoring the sensation as long as he can, while Eichi’s still hard in him. “This is—this is it, if this is what you mean by making love..nnh, I love it too…”

  


  


Eichi exhales a long, rumbling sigh, burying his face into Shu’s neck, nuzzling up to his ear as he kisses and sucks on the sweaty skin. “Mmn…this is definitely what I meant,” he murmurs, shivering underneath the drag of Shu’s hands against his skin, arching like a cat underneath the touch. “You’re made like some kind of a god.” 

  


  


“By me.” The words are a little bit smug, and Shu relaxes back, letting his legs fall down to the bed, stroking up and down Eichi’s spine. “I sculpt every muscle with careful training, you know. But I’m glad you appreciate my hard work.”

  


  


“Yeah, what the hell, actually.” Eichi’s voice is muffled from where he doesn’t bother lifting his face from Shu’s neck as he flops down against him. “You’re  _so_  strong. It’s the hottest thing. Nnh, do you want me to get you off again?” 

  


  


Shu considers that for a moment, then shakes his head. “It can wait. I want to be really ready when you feel like teaching me what fucking is like.” He takes a long sniff of Eichi’s hair, and smiles, just for himself. Damn, but sex really is like a drug.

  


  


Eichi snorts out a laugh at that. “Haven’t I taught you that a million times before?” he teases, propping his chin up onto Shu’s chest. “Did you just sniff me? The great Teiou-sama is kiiind of being cute.” 

  


  


“I’m allowed to be,” Shu says softly, tucking a strand of hair behind Eichi’s ear. “You’re giving me everything I want, so I’ll be sweet to you if I like.”

  


  


“Good, I like it when you’re sweet to me. I see no end to spoiling you, so we’re both winning.” Eichi lifts his head enough to mouth a kiss to Shu’s palm, then licks it, beaming. “You  _enjoy_  my company. Admit it.” 

  


  


“Strangely enough…I think I do.” Shu sighs, and wipes his hand off on Eichi’s back. “Don’t tell anyone. I don’t know how I’d explain that.”

  


  


“It’s because I’m adorable. And handsome. And my eye color is real, not like every other blue-eyed, contact-wearing poser at school.” 

  


  


“I don’t care if it’s real or not,” Shu says bluntly, “you’re beautiful. And you know I never give false compliments.”

  


  


“…This is why we can actually date. We both thoroughly enjoy praise, and praising those we are fond of.” Eichi deliberately squirms against him, languidly tweaking a nipple. “Hey. Make me something pretty, I’ll wear it. And if it’s lingerie, I’ll wear it at school and you’ll know and no one else will.” 

  


  


“…Well. I’m going to do that.”

  


  


“Please. I’m a good dress-up doll, I think.” 

  


  


“…You should let me dress you completely,” Shu says finally, when the idea stops trying to take him over completely, his cock twitching at the thought. “A long fitted coat, brocade on the waistcoat, a proper cravat, trousers tight enough to show off the lines of your legs…ahh, I have a dozen sketches for it at home…”

  


  


“That’s hot.” Eichi’s mouth quickly returns to Shu’s throat again, pressing a warm, wet kiss there. “I’ll wear it whatever you make me. Dress me up the way you want to see me. I might be dying, but at least my body  _looks_  like it isn’t.” 

  


  


  


“You look quite good for as many autoimmune disorders as I hear you have,” Shu admits. “And you rarely have to use your inhaler after we have sex anymore. Are you getting better, or did you just lose your inhaler?”

  


  


“I left it at home deliberately,” Eichi sheepishly admits. “I sort of like the way it feels, not being able to breathe…so it’s an added bonus. But I haven’t had to be admitted in a couple of months now. Maybe all this sex has been good for me? Proper exercise does wonders.” 

  


  


“Maybe it’s just that you’re spending most of your time with someone clean and good-smelling now,” Shu suggests. “Instead of whoever’s ass you were licking before.”

  


  


“Wow, rude.” Eichi snorts, stealing a kiss as he slowly pushes himself upright, raking a hand back through his sweaty hair. “I don’t lick the ass of just anyone. I have standards.” 

  


  


“You learned it  _somewhere_.”

  


  


“Do you want to know where?” Eichi mildly asks. “Or is that going to make you put a collar and tag on me? Not that I’d mind, but I prefer to be holding the leash, usually.” 

  


  


Shu curls onto his side, nestling back against Eichi. “I know a couple of them. One of whom we are not going to talk about if you want me to…have my sense.”

  


  


“I have one of those, too, so…truce.” Eichi slings an arm around Shu’s waist, dragging one of the blankets over them to comfortably spoon up behind him. “But the ass-licking one you probably don’t expect. That was Yuzuru.” 

  


  


“Eh? Yuzuru? Fushimi Yuzuru?” Shu blinks. “Ah, you’re right, I didn’t expect that. He’s good at it, I assume?”

  


  


“Very. Very good with his mouth in general, but—that.  _That_  was good. Also, his dick is really nice. Not as long as mine, but just as thick, and honestly, that’s where it counts. And he’s  _ripped_ —like, built like a statue underneath that preppy sweater he wears, and he has scars, and that mole is  _so_  sexy. He threw me over his shoulder and called me ‘Hime-sama.’ I wanted to die, in a good way.” 

  


  


The idea makes Shu tingle a bit, and he rubs back on Eichi, just seeking more tactile sensation. “Sounds rather…attractive, I must say. Hmm, I doubt I’m missing out by being with anyone else, so you should just tell me stories.”

  


  


“You’re not missing out, I take care of you just fine,” Eichi hums, tightening his arm around Shu’s waist and nuzzling at the back of his neck before planting a kiss there. “But I have plenty of stories. Let’s see, who else…well, let’s laugh at Hiyori. He’s so into petplay that he bought a collar himself and showed up handed me the leash. I regret that one, sort of, because according to him, ‘no one else can get him off.’” 

  


  


“What did you even  _do_  to him?” Shu asks, relaxing back into Eichi’s arms. “I mean, I doubt that anyone will be able to satisfy me after being with you either, but at least I don’t think I’d be pathetic about it.”

  


  


“Umm…nothing special, I thought? But it’s not like I dislike the idea of having someone on a leash, so I had a good time, too? I just talked him off and stepped on him and made him suck my dick and then fucked him, whatever.” Eichi preens at Shu’s admission, however, and snuggles up closer. “He’s loony, though. Let’s see, who else—oh! Tori.” He laughs, somewhat nervously. “Whoops.” 

  


  


“…You’re disgusting,” Shu finally says, though he doesn’t pull away. His mouth twists, though, and he frowns. “He’s too young for you. By far.”

  


  


“Okay, listen, before you judge me, consider that he’s less than two years younger than me—I’m a baby, remember?—and he climbed into  _my lap_. I never once even considered it until  _he_  grabbed  _my_  dick.” 

  


  


“So? You’re the older one, and the leader of his unit, it’s your responsibility not to touch anyone who idolizes you like that.” Not that Shu might be speaking from some personal experience or anything.

  


  


“I didn’t do anything bad! I was suuuper gentle, and I made him very happy. It would have crushed him even more if I had turned him down, you know.” Eichi sighs, squeezing Shu’s waist. “Besides, I’m engaged to his little sister. So we did it once, he was satisfied, and now he just cuddles up to me even more. He’s got a thing for Tsukasa-kun.” He pauses. “Who I have also…anyway, I’m saying, it was no big deal.” 

  


  


Shu lets out a breath through his teeth, laying his hands over Eichi’s arm. “One wonders why you’re with me, if your tastes run so nubile,” he says, without a hint of irony.

  


  


“…Uh huh. I’m just not gonna go after that one. Here, you’ll hate me, but I’ll tell you about it, anyway. Kiryuu-kun. See! My tastes are varied!” 

  


  


Shu lets out a high-pitched squeak of surprise, twisting in Eichi’s arms to stare in horror. “What? Kiryuu? No, no, he’s  _my_  friend, stop touching my things!”

  


  


“It was just once, calm down,” Eichi says with a laugh, rolling Shu forward again to squish him into the bed. “And Keito was there. Want me to spare you the details, or are you now incredibly curious?” 

  


  


“Oof. Fine. Tell me details, so I have something to taunt him with the next time he gets high-and-mighty at me.”

  


  


“I made Keito give him a blowjob to get him to join Akatsuki, because Kiryuu-kun refused for so long, and Keito didn’t believe it would work. But it  _did_ , and I filmed it. And made out with him a little, because it was hot and I really like big guys and he likes bl—um, pretty boys, heh.” 

  


  


“Pretty boys,” Shu says firmly, consigning everything else to hell in his mind. “I thought you said Hasumi hated giving blowjobs, or am I remembering that incorrectly? Poor Kiryuu.”

  


  


“No, you’re right, but he was into this one because I was there. Honestly, he’d probably be fine at them if he wasn’t so whiny about it, but…” Eichi rolls his eyes. “Before you ask, Keito and I have never gone all the way. We start fighting when we try. I want to top, he wants to top, handjobs are the only real compromise, I’m bored and he wants me to talk about my fantasies, which he then tells me are weird. Whatever.” 

  


  


Shu snorts, letting his thumbs curve slowly around Eichi’s wrists, rubbing soft circles. “I’m amused, I thought you wouldn’t mind if I topped at some point. Or is it just that you don’t want to do it with  _him_ , because his prick is small?”

  


  


“It’s not even that small, it’s just  _average_  because he’s sooo Japanese…so honestly, I just…” Eichi sighs, rolling his eyes. “If I’m going to bottom—and I  _do_  love bottoming, don’t get me wrong—I want it to be with someone who can throw me around. Keito’s such a gross romantic that he can’t even have fun in bed, I swear. Sometimes I just want someone to hold me down and fuck me stupid, you know? Of course you know.” 

  


  


One eyebrow lifts, and Shu asks carefully, “In a love-making way? Or a fucking way? Because you know, you’re not difficult to throw around.”

  


  


“In a fucking way. And I know I’m not,” Eichi sweetly says, deliberately licking behind Shu’s ear. “Which is important to remember. You could flick Keito in the forehead and probably knock him across the room, and that’s hot.”

  


  


Shu grimaces. “I hate that. This is why I never face anyone physically. I still find it difficult to realize…exactly how my body is, if that makes sense. It probably doesn’t. It’s just, ah…I was a small child, and sickly, just like you were, remember?”

  


  


“Mm, I remember. So jittery.” Eichi splays his fingers across Shu’s stomach with a little sigh. “I don’t particularly enjoy violence in  _that_  regard, either; I just think it’s hot when someone is that physically strong. Also, it’s Keito, he deserves it, just look at him.” 

  


  


Shu sighs. “Don’t make me feel like a bully, Eichi. I’ve always hated bullies, and never wanted to be one.”

  


  


“I’m nooot! I’m not  _trying_  to, c’mon, don’t be like that,” Eichi grumbles. “This is how I talk about Keito, he likes it. But fine, I’ll talk about someone else—Ritsu-kun. That’s another whoops, actually, but he bites and I was curious.” 

  


  


“Oh, are you still counting off your conquests? By all means, continue. Does Rei know? I feel like he’d murder you.”

  


  


“Yes, I’m still counting. I haven’t flaunted it, because Ritsu-kun wanted to be able to if necessary. So if he knows…well, it’s not my fault. Tea club is  _fun._ ” 

  


  


“Not the little one,  _surely_. You’re using your claims about Himemiya climbing into your lap as your count of first-years keeps growing. It’s creepy.”

  


  


“I walked in on Ritsu-kun chewing on his thighs! I didn’t touch, I just watched, and I think that’s fair. As if you wouldn’t.” 

  


  


“Eh? Me? What’s that supposed to mean?”

  


  


“…That you like little boys and their legs? It’s not exactly a secret. It’s why I lamented shooting up like a tree for awhile.” 

  


  


Shu blinks, as if he’s never heard anything so confusing. “What on  _earth_  are you talking about? I mean, obviously a little boy’s legs is one of the most beautiful things under God’s creation, but that isn’t a  _sex_  thing, obviously.”

  


  


“Wait—you’re serious, I can tell by the tone of your voice.” Eichi pushes himself up onto an elbow to peer over at Shu, vague amusement and bewilderment in a mix on his face. “Everyone at school thinks you’re a total shotacon.” 

  


  


Shu sits up as well, head cocked, as if trying to process elaborate mathematics. “What’s that? Is that an internet thing? I haven’t been online lately, my computer is…in the shop.”

  


  


“It’s not…really an internet thing, it’s—it’s…look, it just means you like little boys. And considering how excited you get when there’s a cute boy in shorts…well.” Eichi’s mouth twitches in open amusement now. “You know what brocons and siscons are, right? That kind of infatuation, but…cute little boys.” 

  


  


“I…I don’t get it,” Shu says, brushing his hair back from his face, brow furrowed. “Everyone knows that beautiful young boys are the best thing in this world, that doesn’t mean everyone wants to, you know,  _do_  anything about it. Except perhaps touch them a bit to confirm what the eye and heart already know.”

  


  


“Sure,” Eichi says with a laugh, shaking his head. “Don’t worry about it. I obviously don’t care, I’ve had a lot of sex with those younger than me, but I also have passed a few times, so…sure. Oh—oh, can we talk about people we’d absolutely have sex with if we could? No touchy subjects, we know the ones to avoid, I’m talking about like—here, some common ground. Sena Izumi.” 

  


  


“Oh, oh, likewise, a hundred times out of a hundred,” Shu says immediately, relaxing back into Eichi’s arms. “His thighs are so sculpted, and his face is a work of art. I’d be grateful just to touch him for a few hours while he lay there.”

  


  


“You’re missing the obvious here. His  _ass_. Also, surprisingly, his tits. I saw him take off his blazer once and the way he flexed made it look like he was about to pop a button off.” 

  


  


“Gorgeous. Utterly beautiful.” Shu pauses for a moment, then offers, “Another common ground. Wataru.”

  


  


Eichi offers no response other than weak, whining groan as he buries his face into Shu’s back.

  


  


“I know,” Shu says sympathetically, reaching behind to pet Eichi’s head. “I know. He’s like that. I want him to pin me to the wall and lick me from head to toe. In an art museum. At midnight. On my birthday.”

  


  


“His hair,” Eichi weakly provides. “When he…when he puts it up. And when he’s only wearing his waistcoat? I wanna die. I want to stick my face in his pecs and never come up for air. Also, am I crazy? Is he flirting with me? I think he flirts with me! But when I flirt back, he  _runs_. I tried to kiss him once, and he  _ran_. Well, accurately, he disappeared in a puff of feathers. Confidence, gone. I cried for a week.” 

  


  


“I tried to kiss him, once,” Shu says gloomily. “At a sleepover. I closed my eyes while I leaned in and my lips met a rose, which he gave me, before vanishing. Rei had to stop me from taking a bath with a toaster.”

  


  


“He used to make my Eichi-kun gauge go off like a firecracker. I almost miss having that thing, then at least it was obvious that I was into him. Now he scoops me off my feet and showers me in flowers and I still don’t know what to do,” Eichi moodily says. “Do you think he’d have a threesome with us? God, I’d die.” 

  


  


“Oh, I’d die as well,” Shu assures him, stroking that soft pale hair. “How would you layer that particular sandwich?”

  


  


“Any way is good,” Eichi groans, butting his head into Shu’s touch, over-affectionate and overstimulated. “But in my perfect world…hmm. Honestly, I want him to throw me around and fuck me senseless, but I also want to pull his hair. So depending on the day, one of two ways—one, him fucking me, me having your mouth,  _or_ , two, me fucking him while he’s fucking you. Both sound delightful. Is his dick big? Have you seen it? If you have,  _tell me._ ” 

  


  


Shu gravely pats Eichi’s hands, then turns around and looks him in the eyes. “It’s bigger than yours,” he says, a little sadly. “We bathed together on a trip once. I nearly fainted.”

  


  


The noise Eichi exhales is a pathetic, pining keen. “Fuuuuck. I knew it. How do I get that inside of me? Sorry, I know, we’re exclusive, but you can’t expect me to just…” 

  


  


“Hmm…” Shu thinks for a moment, tapping his chin. “Well, I already let Hasumi watch. I think threesomes are exempt, right? Don’t look at me, I’m new to dating, too.”

  


  


“Threesomes are totally exempt. Sorry that you’re dating such a whore,” Eichi wryly says, though he doesn’t sound particularly sorry. “I’m here for a good time, not a long time. Here, I’ll give another one so I stop thinking about Wataru and getting  _so_ horny. Tsukinaga-kun.” Touchy, but not taboo.

  


  


That one takes a bit of consideration, but Shu finally nods. “I suppose I wouldn’t mind. I’d want to top, though. He’s all…fiery, but also small and squirmy. It might be fun.”

  


  


“I tried, once.” This one he has only offered up to Keito, when they were drinking stolen sake from Keito’s brother’s room and generally feeling sorry for themselves. “I hit on him and tried to kiss him and he shoved a hand in my face and  _laughed_. And then he ran off with Sena-kun and that was the end of that. Little shit. Makes me hard as a rock, though.” 

  


  


“…Ouch. All right, here’s my most embarrassing rejection, to make you feel a bit better.” Shu breathes in, then admits, “Rei. Who’s at the top of my list, even above Wataru, actually.”

  


  


It takes everything in Eichi’s power not to click his tongue in disappointment, but this is Shu, not Keito, and Shu actually seems to have feelings that can be hurt. “Sakuma-san rejected  _you?_  Now I know for sure that he’s an idiot. Okay, I mean this sincerely, please explain the attraction, because he mostly just makes me feel inferior and that’s an enormous turn-off.” 

  


  


“He…” Shu waves a hand helplessly, irritated with himself. “His way of talking, the old way and the new one. His raw talent, and the way he just  _cares_  about people so genuinely. His violin playing,  _Mon Dieu_ , his violin! And, ah, his hair is so silky, and he used to be such a visionary before he got worried about his future…” His eyes mist over.

  


  


At least when it’s put like that—not like the way Keito puts it, which is just all starry-eyed and gross and infuriating—Eichi begrudgingly has to agree with some of those points. “…and he turned you down? How? Did you actually come onto him? Are you lying about being a virgin? I knew it, virgins don’t suck cock like that.” 

  


  


Depression sinks in, and Shu turns away, grabbing a pillow to hold. “He’s with someone. Yes, I came on to him, and was very kindly and gently informed that he has someone in his life, but that I’m a dear friend. Which…I can’t think of a kinder way for him to have done it, but it still hurt.”

  


  


“ _Who?_ ” Right, that’s insensitive. “I mean, I’m sorry. Better than having a hand shoved into your face and to be laughed at, I suppose?” Eichi tries, sliding after him to drape his weight against Shu’s back. “But seriously, who.” 

  


  


“He didn’t tell me. I don’t suppose it matters, does it?” Shu asks, trying not to sound bitter and failing. “Sorry. It wasn’t that long ago, I’m still a bit sad.”

  


  


“…If it’s Keito again, I’ll kill him,” Eichi mutters. “Both of them. I hate boys, actually. Enough, let’s go back to talking about how nice Wataru’s pecs are.” 

  


  


“Your hands could get lost between them,” Shu says dreamily, more than happy to switch topics, when remembering Rei’s gentle but firm rejection had left such a cold, sad taste in his mouth. “And he’s just—he’s so gentle and cultured, but so powerful.”

  


  


“I want to bury my face in them. And also in his hair. I’m afraid to touch it, because if I do, I’m  _going_  to pull it, it’s a compulsion. He picked me up with one hand once and I nearly died, right then and there.” Eichi sighs, burying his face down between Shu’s shoulderblades. “I’m getting turned on again. I think that’s fair, I want him to destroy me. I threw up blood on him once and he didn’t even  _care_ , that’s a real man.” 

  


  


“Your taste is just  _all_  over the place, isn’t it?”

  


  


“No way, it’s very specific. Tops who will let me top, or the fancier, the better.” 

  


  


“…Well. I can’t deny certain parts of that. Nor would I choose to. Fancy is a state of mind, you know.”

  


  


“Uh huh. You’re riiiight up my alley, though,” Eichi hums, wriggling against Shu to rub his half-hard cock against the curve of his ass—not really seeking anything, but just because he can, he’s going to. “Your reactions are the best. Sorry, they just are, and it’s why I’ve always had to tease you until you shrieked.” 

 

“Is that why you’re rubbing on me right now?” Shu asks mildly, reaching back to run delicate fingernails down Eichi’s shoulder. “Mm, it should be a crime, the way we fit together, don’t you think? Well, mind you, I think it  _is_  a crime, as far as my family’s concerned, anyway.”

  


“You’re soft but firm, it’s the kind of thing a person likes to rub on.” Eichi squishes himself closer, nuzzling up into Shu’s hair. “It’s definitely a crime. No one else feels as good as you.” 

  


Shu almost clarifies that it’s an  _actual_  crime, for which he’s pretty sure he’ll be thrown in jail if the Tenshouin family makes a big enough deal out of it, but bites that back. That’s not exactly something he wants to remember, or think about, especially not when they’re like this. Instead, he inhales deeply, and runs his hand down Eichi’s arm, threading their fingers together. “Then lock me away,” he says softly. “Because I won’t stop.”

  



	11. Chapter 11

 

Typically, a chance to watch Wataru change clothes is only a pleasant thing. 

  


Today, it’s stressful. 

  


Pausing to watch Wataru strip from his school uniform and into practice clothes always makes Eichi’s heart skip a beat, but today, it’s for another reason. Down that perfect, broad, sculpted back are the tell-tale signs of…yes, no, those are absolutely, definitely nail marks, the sign of someone raking their hands down Wataru’s back mid-coitus. Eichi  _knows_  he’s staring. He can’t stop, either, even when he crushes the water bottle he’s holding in his hand. “Ah,” he says, blinking hard. Fuck. 

  


Wataru turns, with all his customary uncaring of his half-clothed state, rushing to Eichi’s side. “Your Majesty, do you feel unwell? Shall I carry you somewhere, as your loyal chariot?”

  


Eichi fumbles for words, his face flushing hot. Now Wataru is close to him, half-dressed and smelling  _so_  good, and like this, Eichi can also catch sight of a couple of small, but dark bruises right above Wataru’s collar bone. There’s no mistaking what those are, certainly. “N-no,” he manages, taking a step back and looking away. “No, it’s fine, I’m fine.”  _This isn’t fair!_

  


Wataru blinks, looking entirely nonplussed. Eichi often acts flustered and startled around him, but rarely does he pull away like this. He reaches out, and feels the skin of his back pull taut over—

  


Oh. 

  


That might be it.

  


Flushing, he pulls away, and tugs his shirt on. He doesn’t meet Eichi’s eyes. His primary reaction is always to ignore anything unpleasant, so he paints on a false smile, and frees Melinda, letting her flutter up to perch in the rafters. “Ah, naughty girl! Shall I fly up there and catch her for you, Your Majesty?”

  


“Um—“ Obviously, Wataru  _knows_  why he’s acting this way now, which is troubling. Eichi swallows and pulls himself to his feet, shaking his head. “No, n-no, that’s fine, I…I’m actually feeling a little lightheaded, I think I’m going to—go lie down.” He scoops up his bag, unable to meet Wataru’s eyes.  _Who? Who?!_ He wants to ask, but the question sticks to his tongue. “Will you let everyone else know?” 

  


“I hadn’t intended to tell—ah!“

  


Too late, Wataru realizes that Eichi isn’t talking about letting everyone know about his obvious tryst, but about Eichi lying down for a moment. He ducks his head, and Melinda flutters down from the rafters, cooing in concern. “Ah, of course! Do feel better, my liege.” The flowery words stick slightly on his tongue, but the show must go on.

  


Eichi flees, less gracefully than he’d like, feeling very much like he’s been punched in the heart.  _This isn’t fair, this isn’t fair!_

  


Explaining that to any outside party, however, proves difficult. Keito is right out; he won’t care, Eichi knows, though that makes him furious. Shu is his only option, his  _only_  solace, and so it’s fortunate that cornering him in the infirmary is so commonplace. “You’re  _never_  going to believe this,” he bemoans, falling facedown onto one of the disgustingly uncomfortable beds. “Wataru—he’s… _with_  someone.” 

  


Shu blinks, nonplussed to see Eichi flopping gracelessly, so much that it takes him a moment to process the actual words. “Oh. Is he? That’s unexpected. Who is it?”

  


“I don’t  _know_.” Eichi buries his face down into a pillow, huffing loudly. “But his back was all clawed up, and he had  _hickeys._ My Wataru, defiled! I had to leave, I couldn’t even look at him. I was hoping you  _knew_.” 

  


“…Ah, no.” Shu’s voice is less sympathetic now, and more skeptical. “Did you think he was a virgin or something, that you’re so concerned for his virtue?”

  


“He always ran away when I tried to  _kiss him._  Who does that but virgins? And even if he wasn’t, it’s still…ugh. He’s  _mine._ ” 

  


Shu’s face falls slowly into a frown, and he folds his arms. “You’re exceeding how much you’re allowed to care about the sex life of someone you’re not sleeping with. Especially in front of your significant other.”

  


“What, like you don’t think about Sakuma-san all the time?” Eichi moodily shoots back. “Wataru and I have a contract.” 

  


“All right, show me this contract. I’m having some doubts about the fine print.”

  


“I puked blood in his mouth. That’s a stronger contract than you’d ever be able to understand.” 

  


“What the hell?”

  


“What? Did I stutter? After that, he’s mine, it’s official, like a fairy pact or something.” 

  


“First of all, you’re making things up. Second of all, seriously,  _why do you care_? Unless you still think you’re going to be with him,” Shu says with a huff.

  


Eichi lifts his head, then snorts, and flops back down again. “Of course you wouldn’t understand. He’s mine, that’s all that matters. Besides, I was  _hoping_  he’d agree to a threesome with us, but now it would be so  _messy_  with a fourth party that I don’t even know…” 

  


“Which you didn’t even think was important to ask me about.” Shu’s voice is clipped, terse, and he stands abruptly, grabbing his bag and heading for the door without another word.

  


“Wait—what the hell, we totally talked about that, I  _remember_ —“ 

  


Eichi huffs, shoving his face down into the flimsy, shitty pillow even harder, contemplating where the hell that conversation went awry. 

  


Finally, at the end of the day, he sulkily texts Keito. Even if he finds Wataru distasteful, he’ll surely understand. 

  


**To: Keito**

**Subject: :(**

**come talk to me im in the infirmary and dont wanna get up and itsuki-kun is mean and left me here**

  


**To: Eichi**

**Subject: :/**

**im busy**

  


Not one minute after the text arrives, Keito shows up in the infirmary, carrying a bookbag and looking concerned. “What’s wrong, why are you here? Is it your heart, your lungs? I told you not to drink all of that milk with lunch, didn’t I?”

  


“My heart is broken and shattered into a million pieces and I’m going to die right here and now.” 

  


“…So I don’t need to call your doctor?” Keito guesses, setting his bag on the floor and sitting on the foot of Eichi’s bed, shifting his feet to the side. “I told you Itsuki sucks.”

  


“Nooo.” Eichi kicks his feet, huffing. “He’s just the tip of the iceberg. Wataru…he showed up to practice, all clawed and bitten up. Someone has  _stolen_  him. I tried to tell Itsuki-kun, but he just got mad at me. I hate boys.” 

  


Keito takes a deep breath. “I,” he informs Eichi, “am trying very hard to care about the love lives of two men that I think aren’t even close to good enough for you. You know I think they’re both either stupid or insane.”

  


“You’re not listening to me. I’m  _saying_  I’m upset because Wataru is sleeping with someone. This is valid, coming from me, who is invested in him. Yes or no?” 

  


“…Yes, I guess?” Keito guesses, a bit mystified. “Invested as what, though? If Itsuki was confused, I don’t blame him, as much as that pains me to say.”

  


“He and I were  _just_  talking about other guys we wanted to fuck the other day! I don’t see why he’d be confused.” Eichi’s pouting intensifies, and he twists his way around in bed, huddling into an unhappy ball. “Wataru’s mine. I mean, we’re not dating or anything, but I still… _he_  still…” 

  


“Finish your sentence,” Keito suggests, “and I can give you some advice. It  _sounds_  like you’re just passing time with Itsuki until the one you really want is available.”

  


“That’s—that’s not it! I mean, I want Wataru,” Eichi admits readily, frowning. “But—Itsuki-kun and I…that’s something different, and he should  _know_  the difference. It’s not like he doesn’t feel that way about…some people.” Telling Keito that Shu wants Rei and  _hasn’t_  been able to climb into bed with him is probably questionable.

  


Keito stares at Eichi for a moment, then pulls out his homework, starting a few math problems. At least he’ll be able to do  _something_  constructive during this stupid and pointless conversation. “If you’d both rather be with other people, you should break up. Obviously.”

  


“I never said that. I never said that!” Eichi groans, rolling over onto his back and kicking Keito in the hip. “ _God._  I thought you’d understand. You get pissed off when I’m with other people even though we aren’t together, it’s the same thing!” 

  


“Well,  _yeah_ , because I’m in love with you,” Keito points out in exasperation. “And I want to be dating you more than the person I’m with, idiot. Duh.”

  


“Never mind, you’re a bad example. Wait. Is that what Sh—Itsuki-kun thinks? Seriously?” 

  


“ _Obviously_ , if he’s not as dumb as you.”

  


“You’re so mean to me. All of you.” Eichi sniffs, rolling over to present Keito with his back. “I just wanted to complain about Wataru sleeping with someone that wasn’t me. I think that’s fair. Shu complains about Sakuma-san dating someone and I have to listen to  _that._ ” 

  


“If he complains about it like this, then you’re both equally garbage,” Keito assures him, sketching out his answer to the next problem, though he breezes by the ‘show your work’ section for now. “Which wouldn’t surprise me. He’s not good enough for you.”

  


“You think no one’s good enough for me,” Eichi grumpily says. “I just want to kiss a lot of boys and have a good time before I die. Ugh. But now Shu’s mad at me. Help, I’m bad at this.” 

  


Keito stares wordlessly at Eichi, setting his pen down on top of his paper. “What kind of advice do you want?” he asks, with a little sigh. “To make up with Itsuki? Or to find out who Wataru’s laying eggs in and make them pay?”

  


“…Both? Both. Definitely both.”

  


“No, you can’t have both.”

  


“Yes, I can. I can have everything I want.” Eichi’s lips purse. “But first things first, how to make up with stupid boys.” 

  


Keito sighs, and picks up his math again. “Talk to me again when you’re serious. You don’t really want Hibiki, you just want him now because someone else is playing with him, you’re like a toddler without object permanence.”

  


“You’re literally the meanest person I know. Please, Keito, I hate this. I know you hate Itsuki-kun but he’s so pretty and it’s the best sex I’ve ever had.” 

  


“So you want to stay with him? More than you want to get with Hibiki?”

  


“…I mean, right  _now_ I do. Stop nitpicking me, I don’t like being bad at this enough already.” 

  


Keito rolls his eyes, and sketches out the answer to the next problem. “You don’t need advice, you need professional help. Your questions have really obvious answers, you know. If you want to make up with Itsuki, apologize.”

  


“And if he won’t talk to me?” Eichi pulls the pillow up and over his face. “Sometimes he just won’t, you know. And I don’t know what to apologize for. Sorry for…being grumpy that the hottest guy in school is fucking someone that isn’t me?” 

  


“Try, ‘Sorry for acting like I’d rather be with Hibiki than with you,’ or something,” Keito suggests. “Show up at his house or whatever, you’ve never let being accused of stalking stop you before.”

  


“Fair enough,” Eichi begrudgingly allows. “Maybe if I climb up to his window Romeo and Juliet style, he’ll immediately forgive me anyway and think I’m adorable  _and_  dashing.” 

  


“Please don’t text me if you do that,  _I’m_  going to be the one with a heart condition after this.”

  


“Heh. You should’ve heard my heart after I saw the marks on Wataru’s back—it was  _going_ , which I think is entirely fair.” Eichi sighs heavily, tossing the pillow over at Keito. “You seriously don’t know who it is? I was hoping maybe those sharp ears of yours picked something up…” 

  


Keito purses his lips. “The amount I don’t care about Hibiki’s love life would astound you,” he says dryly. “No, I have no idea who it is. Except all the rumors that it’s you, of course.”

  


“But it’s not!  _Ugh_ , and then Shu got all pissy when I mentioned a threesome, which we had  _just_  talked about and only  _now_  he’s cross about it…whatever, give me some cash for a cab, I have to go to his house, I  _guess_.” 

  


“You still owe me from the last time,” Keito protests, though he pulls out a thousand yen bill. “This is all I have on me, so you’ll have to walk if it’s more. Ugh, I should just come with you and make sure you don’t die.”

  


“I fucked him in front of you last time, that was your payment,” Eichi grumbles, tugging the bill out of Keito’s hand. “If you come with me, you’re going to have to watch me climb a tree and be gross and romantic.” 

  


Keito makes a dry gagging sound behind his hand, very pointedly not hiding the volume. “Gross. Maybe I’ll skip, I have an appointment to drive bamboo slivers under my fingernails.”

  


“Shh. You’re just jealous and wish I’d climb in through your window,” Eichi sweetly says, sitting up and leaning close. “But I don’t do that anymore because you hate giving head.” 

  


Keito shoves Eichi in the shoulder, though not exactly hard. “And you’re dating someone—god, does he know how bad you are at keeping it in your pants? You really should break up with him, if you’re going to keep being like this.”

  


“I warned him! And he made me promise to be exclusive,” Eichi grouses, swaying with the shove. “I can’t believe I’ve managed to be good for this long. Probably because he puts out an awful lot, but if he knew how much I looked at other guys, he’d probably kill me. Or maybe not? He’s a mystery.” 

  


“But that’s  _sex_ ,” Keito points out. “I’m sure he knows you’re bad at that part, it’s obvious.” He hesitates, trying to think of the right words. “With a guy like Hibiki, you sound like you’re in love with him. And that’s awful, for someone who thinks you two are together forever or whatever, the idiot. Also, don’t go over to apologize if you don’t know what you’re apologizing for, you’ll just sound like a sociopath.”

  


“…He’s the one that keeps talking about how his family is going to disown him so it’ll never work out for long,” Eichi mumbles, slumping slowly into Keito’s shoulder. “I think I am a sociopath, though. I still don’t really get it. If I tell him that, do you think he’ll still be mad even if I’m apologizing for making him upset, at least?” 

  


“Well…” Keito thinks for a moment, hand coming up automatically to pet Eichi’s hair. “I don’t think he’ll be mad. But you’ll upset him. Trust me, he doesn’t want to hear about how you can’t imagine loving just one person.”

  


“When am I gonna give up and just date you, huh.” Eichi headbutts Keito’s hand. “Sorry. That came out sounding bad, but you know what I mean. No one else gets it. I keep expecting other people to and they don’t.” 

  


The familiar sensation of pain thunks into Keito’s stomach. It’s almost a friendly feeling at this point, his most constant companion, and he forces a smile. “Obviously, I’m the only one who gets it. That’s why I have to be the best friend, I suppose.”

  


“Mm. But you’re good.” Eichi leans into Keito’s hand, eyes shut. “I’ll figure it out eventually, I guess. Sorry that you have to put up with me in the meantime. Guess I better go climb a tree and maybe die.” 

  


“Do you want me to come? Seriously, I will if you think it’ll stop you from dying, but I  _don’t_  want to wait around while you two cannoodle.”

  


“Ehh…no promises that we won’t be cannoodling, and it’s at his house, so I don’t know if you can come in if I get invited. His weird cat creature thing might be there. What’s his name. Kagehira. He tried to hit me once, can you believe?” 

  


“Yes.”

  


“That’s scary! Do you think a lot of people want to hit me? My pretty face is the one thing I’ve got going for me these days…” 

  


“I mean, I can think of lots of people who would, probably?” Keito frowns. “Mikejima, probably a few of the oddballs, everyone who used to be in fine…”

  


“I ran into Hiyori the other day. He doesn’t want to punch me, he just wants to fuck me. And we don’t talk about Mikejima-kun, he’s the worst.” 

  


“You can’t just keep ignoring the people you hate because you hate them, Eichi. That’s how you wind up getting surprised when people want to punch you.”

  


“I’m going,” Eichi announces, deciding to ignore that, too, as he climbs to his feet. “If for some reason Shu decides he hates me and will never fuck me again, I’ll date you. Deal?” 

  


In that moment, Keito makes a decision. “If you ask me tonight. If not, I’m finally asking out the person I have a crush on.”

  


“Who?” Eichi immediately doubles back, planting his hands to either side of Keito on the bed to lean in close. “Who is it? Not Sakuma, right?” 

  


“No, no, he’s dating someone.”

  


Eichi’s eyes narrow. “Do you know who?” 

  


Keito blinks, then smiles. “If you ask me out tonight, I’ll put my ear to the ground and do some research.”

  


“Why are you like this?” Eichi complains, straightening with his hands on his hips. “You’re supposed to do research for me anyway. Aren’t you supposed to be my right hand man?” 

  


“That’s in helping you take over the school and run it like your dreams,” Keito reminds him. “Not in spying on my ex!”

  


“It’s not spying, it’s just…asking around. That’s different. If I wanted someone to spy on him, I’d ask Isa—“ Eichi pauses, then looks at Keito again. “Isara-kun. That’s who it is, isn’t it. The one you want to ask out.” 

  


Keito looks away suddenly. “Um. No.”

  


“Woooow, it totally is. Cradle robber.” 

  


“He’s less than a year younger than me! You slept with  _Himemiya_ , you have no legs to stand on!”

  


“He’s less than two years younger than me! You’re a cradle robber. He acts so young and fresh. I hear he gives good blowjobs, though.” 

  


“Do you actually want me to die alone?” Keito demands. “Is that what this is about, you just  _really_  want me to die alone?”

  


“No. I want to take you with me on my funeral pyre so we can die together and turn into bugs in the next life.” 

  


“Shut up, that’s already a given.”

  


“Okay, good. Just so long as that’s a given.” Eichi sighs, looks away, then looks back at him, frowning. “Fine. You have my blessing. But only if Shu decides he’s breaking up with me. Otherwise, you’re mine.” 

  


“Great, I’ll just wait around for Itsuki’s leftovers,” Keito says, but the smile is back on his face. It helps to hide how much he hates himself, most times. “Go on, you’d rather be there than here anyway. Please try not to die in a tree.”

  


“Don’t be silly. You’re mine no matter what, you’re just  _extra_  mine if he breaks up with me,” Eichi lightly says, poking Keito’s cheek before scooping up his bag. “Later, Keito. I’ll text you if I die.” 

  



	12. Chapter 12

 

The wind, Itsuki Shu decides, is interfering with his moping. 

  


He’s been lying facedown for the better part of an hour, delighting in being morose, screeching whenever there’s a knock at his door or the pathetic offerings of Kagehira to cook for him. as if what he’s craving isn’t a better boyfriend but food poisoning. Is he being ridiculous? Of course. That doesn’t mean he doesn’t want to lie down firmly and be depressed for an evening.

  


If only it weren’t for the damned wind, scratching and tapping at his window.

  


Finally, thoughts of pruning shears flashing sharply in his mind, Shu flings open the sash, opening the window to threaten the plum tree outside his window—

  


And stops, startled, at the sight of Eichi, dangling precariously, clutching a thick branch with all four limbs, a few meters off the ground. He leans out, eyes wide, gasping, “What—what are you doing up there, you utter fool? You’ll fall! You’ll—it’s too high, haven’t you ever seen the Hayley Mills classic Pollyanna?”

  


“No, but I’ve seen Romeo and Juliet and if you had a proper balcony, I would’ve leapt upon it by now,” Eichi  _cheerfully_ manages, even in the cold with his teeth chattering and his fingers threatening to freeze off. He tries not to shake and shiver, and instead, bats his eyelashes. “Hi, by the way. Please let me in, I’ve been up here for  _awhile_  and I dropped my phone and it’s on your lawn and I’m  _really_ trying to be cute while also hoping you’ll catch me in your strong arms.” 

  


The last of Shu’s depression fades beneath care, affection, and amusement, and he carefully steps out of the window, setting his feet onto the narrow ledge. He takes the branch in one hand, and extends the other to Eichi, nearly brushing his fingers. “Jump. I’ll catch you,” he promises. Maybe at last, the strength he’s cultivated will have a purpose, instead of just producing unsightly muscles.

  


Eichi hesitates, warily sparing a glance at the distance once more. It’s not that far, he supposes, and he’s done stupider things, but he  _is_  up a full story and he will absolutely die if he hits the ground.  _You’re a dancer, dumbass_ , he reminds himself.  _You can jump half a meter._  “If I die, I’ll try my best to make it look like it’s not your fault,” he exhales, before releasing his grip to toss himself into Shu’s arms.

  


Shu catches him with little effort, even if Eichi  _is_  a nearly-two-meter-tall man, and lifts him into the bedroom, picking him bodily up with one arm while holding to the tree for leverage with the other. “ _Try_  not to do that again, sweet Romeo,” he grunts with the effort, climbing in the window after Eichi. “I’d rather not recreate the final scene as well, if I can help it.”

  


“Holy shit,” Eichi manages with a breathless little laugh, collapsing back onto the edge of Shu’s bed. “Beautiful Juliet is  _so_  strong. Ah, I should really go outside and get my phone…after I thaw. Can you close the window, I swear it’s a full five degrees colder on this side of town.” 

  


“How odd, you’d think it would be warmer,” Shu muses, just a hint of sarcasm in his voice, “since we can’t afford walls, and all huddle around campfires for warmth. Kagehira!”

  


“You have campfires?” Eichi asks, blinking up at him. “ _Where_?” 

  


A moment passes before the door to Shu’s bedroom creaks open, and in pokes Mika’s head, his mismatched eyes hesitant, but pleased that he’s being called upon in the midst of Shu’s depression. “Yeah, Oshi-san? Did you decide y’wanted dinner after all—what the fuck.” 

  


“Hi,” Eichi offers up with a smile, and Mika does that startling, obnoxious hiss of his. 

  


“This romantic idiot dropped his phone outside, and will die if he goes to fetch it,” Shu says dryly, picking up a crocheted throw and draping it around Eichi’s shoulders. “I’ll go fetch it, just make sure he doesn’t die while I’m gone, will you? And yes, I’ll take supper after all, and some for him as well.”

  


Mika growls low in his throat, and Eichi lists contently to the side, sprawling out into Shu’s bed and snuggling down into the throw that looks suspiciously like something out of an antique store. “I  _knew_ your room would look like this,” he says. “So frilly and ruffly.” 

  


“He’s in my spot,” Mika lowly hisses, grabbing onto Shu’s arm. “I don’t like it. Oshi-saan, whyyyy?” 

  


“Because he came through my window, and I do like that,” Shu says blithely, rolling Eichi to the other side of the bed, all bundled up in the throw. “There, your spot is free. And if you’re going to be unkind, please go down and get me his phone from the ground.”

  


Mika fumes visibly, his lips pressed into a thin line, but he turns on his heel, stomping his way out of the room and down the stairs. 

  


“I’m glad the window attempt was appreciated,” Eichi cheerfully says in-between shivers. “I was hoping it would be. Ah, also, I’m sorry for earlier. I didn’t meant to upset you.” 

 

Shu stares at Eichi for a moment, then smiles wryly, climbing onto the bed next to him. “You don’t have the slightest clue why I was upset, do you? It’s all right, it’s very charming that you did this no matter your motivation.”

 

“I really… _really_ don’t get it,” Eichi admits, no matter how Keito’s warning that _he’ll be upset, you just wait_ makes his pulse flutter nervously. Keito seems to be wrong. That’s good, he likes when Keito is wrong. “But I hate you being upset with me enough to swallow my pride and get stuck in a tree, so I’m glad that counts.” He worms his way closer, shivering again. “Did…did Kagehira-kun say that I was in his spot? Do you two sleep together in here?”

 

“Of course.” Shu blinks slowly, as if confused why this wouldn’t be naturally assumed. “He’s in my care, and he gets cold at night. Please refrain from making comments, you’re a guest in his home.” Though he does put an arm around Eichi’s shoulders, tugging him closer.

 

“It wasn’t a comment, I was just curious,” Eichi grumbles, though he _does_ have to bite his tongue and refrain from telling Shu that _that’s weird, you know? definitely weird and co-dependent._ It’s easy enough to shut up about it when Shu is _so_ warm, though, and Eichi exhales a long, pleased sigh, sinking into Shu’s hold with another, pointed little shiver. “You _radiate_ heat, Juliet.”

 

The bedroom door swings open again, and Mika, scowling, tosses the phone onto the bed before shutting the door behind himself pointedly. “Thank you?” Eichi calls after him, and receives a weird hissing noise in response before the tell-tale sound of Mika’s footsteps going down the stairs follows.

 

Shu frowns, and starts to rise, but refrains, letting him go. “I hope he doesn’t try to sleep on the sofa or something,” he frets. “His bones are quite delicate, I don’t want his alignment to suffer because I’m being selfish. I suppose it _is_ bear night.”

 

“Bear night?” Eichi echoes curiously. “What’s bear night? Oh, if he’s sleeping on the couch, won’t your parents know something’s wrong?” It isn’t fear that makes him suddenly shift and pull away, grabbing for his phone, but self-preservation. He’s needy and horny, but not _that_ stupid. Upon seeing that his phone is still in one piece—and most importantly, in airplane mode—he relaxes, slinking back down. “I don’t want them to come in here and find me here.”

 

“How on earth would my parents find out?” Shu asks, mystified. “Kagehira isn’t going to call them, why would he do that?”

 

“…Don’t they live here?” Eichi asks, equally as mystified until he puts two and two together. “Wait. Hold on. You live _alone?”_

 

“No,” Shu says, in what he feels is a perfectly patient tone. “I live with Kagehira. This is my great-aunt’s house, I’m staying here because it’s close to school. Can the scion of the Tenshouin family truly not comprehend a family with multiple residences? Do you think that because we aren’t as wealthy as you that we all share a single room across generations?”

 

“I’m grasping that, you snot, but what _you_ aren’t grasping, apparently, is the fact your parents don’t live with you. _And_ you don’t have cameras _or_ guns! You could’ve invited me over this whole time very safely, and I could’ve been way less stressed!”

 

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Shu snaps. “Kagehira lives here. And honestly, I assumed your parents had some sort of tracking device on you, and the hotel was an ‘approved’ location.”

 

“I mean, it _is_ , but my butler could’ve come in at any point and interrupted us if he felt like it,” Eichi huffs. “I don’t _think_ they have me microchipped—but of course they’ll recognize me when I show up and report back. In a place like this, I can just turn my phone off, and they won’t know. Kagehira-kun doesn’t seem too miffed about having to go downstairs, _he_ understands the need to be _alone_ with one’s boyfriend after said boyfriend climbed a tree for you.”

 

“He’s a polite child,” Shu says reprovingly, casting a worried glance at the door. “In his own way. I do hope he isn’t upset about missing bear night, though I doubt I’d have had the energy had you not come in.”

 

“Were you really that depressed?” Eichi presses, sidling closer again. “You know, if you ever doubt my dedication, please consider that I actually agreed to be exclusive for _you_ , and I _have_ been good. I haven’t even made out with Keito and I usually do all the time.”

 

Shu gives him a small smile, and twines his fingers with Eichi’s, still marveling that they’re _here_ , that somehow, it’s all worked out, that Tenshouin Eichi is in his bed _by design_ instead of horrific accident. “Your noble sacrifice is noted, and appreciated. And yes, if you must know, I was going to change into the most comfortable dressing gown I have, skip supper, and listen to extra-sad opera until I passed out, then wake up around one in the morning and make Mademoiselle a new pantsuit.”

 

“…Uh huh. That sounds like you, for sure. But now I’m here, so what’re you going to do?” Eichi smiles as innocently as possible, giving Shu’s hand a squeeze. “I came all this way and nearly died, and you’re warmer than a very fancy kotatsu.”

 

“But harder to stick your toes under,” Shu says mildly, and then presses a kiss to Eichi’s cheek. It feels lewder than usual, somehow, surrounded by his throw and his pillows and his great-aunt’s dolls judging him, and he flushes to the tips of his ears. “I hope you aren’t expecting sexual favors, you’re shaking like a tiny dog in a windstorm.”

 

“That’s why you’re supposed to warm me up, obviously,” Eichi sniffs, burrowing his way closer. He shoves his feet against Shu’s to prove that he is, in fact, a worthy kotatsu. “My thin blood is from my father’s side of the family, so blame him. Kiss me properly, tell me you aren’t mad at me anymore.”

 

Shu sighs, then turns, straddling Eichi’s thighs with his knees, settling his weight on top of him and dragging his face close for a kiss. Eichi’s lips are cold, but Shu ignores that, and lets his tongue slip between those cold lips, tasting and exploring for a moment before pulling back, eyes meeting Eichi’s. “I’m not angry,” he says softly. “As long as you came here, and not to Wataru’s first.”

 

Eichi blinks up at him slowly, his brow furrowing even as his hands reflexively slide down Shu’s waist and hips, curling around the curve of his ass. “Why…would I go to Wataru’s?” he asks, sounding genuinely confused. “First of all, I don’t know where he lives. I’ve never even seen his house. Second of all…what would I even say to him? ‘Tell me who you’re fucking right now or…’” He shrugs helplessly. “Shu, he took me by surprise and it freaked me out. I thought _no one_ could get a piece of him.”

 

Shu sighs, and presses both of his hands to Eichi’s cheeks, shoving his face into a silly-looking face. “Don’t worry. I think I’ve decided you’re harmlessly clueless, rather than intentionally trying to cheat on me. It’s because you’re about as cogent as a delightfully average golden retriever.”

 

“Golden retrievers are adorable,” Eichi supplies through the way his cheeks are squished, attempting all the same to beam up at Shu. “So I’ll take that as a compliment. And assume that you’re not mad and absolutely want me to help you break in your bed.”

 

“I am not mad,” Shu agrees, “but I’m not going to have sex when Kagehira is here, we don’t have that kind of relationship. If you can’t cuddle platonically, or at least romantically without sex, then you need to go home.”

 

“I almost died for you,” Eichi points out, and calmly reaches up to pinch one of Shu’s nipples. “Kagehira-kun assumes we’re going to have sex, that’s why he left.”

 

Shu squeaks, then slaps at Eichi’s hand, though not very hard. “S-stop it, just because he’s expecting something horrible to happen doesn’t mean I’m going to oblige! He deserves better than that, be compassionate for once in your life.”

 

Eichi’s face falls, just pathetic enough to be genuine and not an outright pout. “You think having sex with me is horrible?”

 

“I—you’re twisting my words, I don’t mean that at all!” Shu folds his arms protectively in front of his chest, face red. “I mean that it’s horrible to displace him from his bed, not to mention that I’ll be _soiling_ it…”

 

“So make a servant change the—er, just change the sheets afterwards, whatever. Or put a towel down. Or fuck, we can use condoms, just this once,” Eichi grumbles, pushing himself up onto his elbows, his pout intensifying. “At least make out with me. Shuuuu, c’mon, I’m at your house and you don’t have parents _or_ servants skulking about, why don’t you just go ask him if it’s okay if you’re that worried?”

 

“…Begging for sex isn’t attractive, Eichi.”

 

Eichi’s pouting turns to sulking. “Fine. I’m not begging, but fine. I’ll go sleep on the couch and he can come back up here.”

 

“So you are incapable of lying down with me without trying to cop a feel?” Shu demands. “Why can’t you both sleep in my bed? Also, you definitely have to go home tonight, don’t you?”

 

“I was prepared to lie and say I was at Keito’s so I could stay over,” Eichi mutters, forcing himself to sit up, shivery and now grumpy. “Your bed is definitely too small for three people, and you seem extremely distressed by the idea of him being put out or uncomfortable in some way, so I was _trying_ to be nice because he obviously hates me.” _And god forbid you actually want your boyfriend to share a bed with you through the night for once,_ he moodily bites back, throwing his legs over the side of the bed and snatching up his phone. “Forget it. You could’ve just said you don’t want me to stay over, you know.”

 

_Did I say that?_

  


Shu hesitates, then shoves Eichi back down to the bed, straddling him fully and seizing his face, kissing him hard and deep, hands fisting in his shirt to keep him close. “I didn’t say that,” he says softly, fiercely. “I want you, and I want you here, and I want you with me. But he’s in my care, and I have responsibilities, can you understand that?”

  


Eichi’s mouth snaps shut, irritation fluttering away to be replaced with frustration, which at least doesn’t make him want to stalk off and throw a temper tantrum quite as much. “I’d understand it more if he was an actual child,” he mutters crossly. “He’s barely a year younger than  _me—“_

  


The bedroom door cracks open without a single warning, and Mika tosses Eichi’s bag in unceremoniously. “Y’left that in the tree,” he announces. “Oshi-san, I’m gonna go over to Naru-chan’s for…a bit. Bye.” 

  


The door clicks shut again, and Eichi looks up at Shu, eyebrows raised. “Well.” 

  


“He can’t do that!” Shu flutters anxiously, sitting up in alarm. “Kagehira, you can’t walk there alone, it’s  _dark_! You’ll die!”

  


“He’s totally not listening to you,” Eichi points out, grabbing Shu by the arm to drag him back down. “Also, flashlights exist.”

  


Shu is still tense, but lets Eichi drag him down, eyes large and worried. “You don’t understand, he has awful night vision and a simply abysmal sense of direction. I’ll just—I’ll just text Narukami, as long as he knows Kagehira is supposed to arrive, that should be sufficient, don’t you think?”

  


“The assumption he hasn’t already texted Narukami-kun…” Eichi wryly points out, but he flops back down anyway, heaving a shaky, wheezing sigh. “Fine, fine. Do what makes you happy, I don’t care, I’m in your bed.” 

  


**To: Narukami**

**Subject: Kagehira**

**He is on his way. Text me when he arrives safely, or I will be very displeased.**

  


Finally, Shu relaxes, though he jumps when his phone buzzes immediately.

  


**To: Itsuki**

**Subject: :)**

**Oh yaaaaaaay I get Mika-chan tonight! Don’t worry, I’ll take goooood care of him, he’ll be safe and sound in my arms! I’ll just head out now and meet him, why didn’t you walk him over? You know he has bad night vision.**

  


“How does he text so much so fast?” Shu grumbles, and tosses his phone aside, finally curling up with Eichi. “Fine,” he says at last. “You win. Name Juliet’s prize.”

  


“ _I’m_  your prize, duh,” Eichi says with a laugh, grabbing at Shu to pull him close again and promptly bury his face into his neck, inhaling deeply. “This whole house smells like you,” he groans. “You can’t get mad at me for being horny, that’s just how it is.” 

  


Shu sighs, and shoves up the hem of Eichi’s shirt, letting his hands dance along delicate bones and toned muscles, relaxing back onto Eichi’s thighs. “Yes, you’re a desperate case. I suppose there’s nothing for me to do but accommodate you, hmm?”

  


“That’s the one,” Eichi hums, exhaling a pleased sound as he settles down into the mattress, his fingers dragging down the line of Shu’s back, stroking down lean, smooth muscle that can  _apparently_ catch him if he launches himself from a tree. “It’s not my fault you’re so hot, either. Ahh, this is delightfully delinquent, I can’t believe I actually get to secretly spend the night with my boyfriend, I was pretty sure that was a movie thing only.” 

  


“And you’re  _sure_  that I won’t get arrested because your microchip leads your butler here?” Shu presses, though even he isn’t sure whether he’s joking or not, and it doesn’t stop his other hand from flicking at the catch of Eichi’s trousers. Abruptly, he’s confronted with a surge of his own hormones, demanding that he get at Eichi’s cock, that he get it  _inside_ , that he worship the taste, the smell, the heavy hard thick length of it that drives him insane, makes his mouth go slack as he starts to drool. “Ah…give me this,” he mutters, hand curling around it, suddenly blind to everything else.

  


“I’m not microchipped, it was a  _joke_ ,” Eichi groans, his hands dragging up to grab at Shu’s shoulders, pushing him down. “It’s yours, do whatever you want with it,” he breathes, his hips arching up into the drag of Shu’s hand against him. “But you should absolutely put your mouth on it first.” 

  


The groan that escapes Shu’s mouth is ragged and hungry, and he doesn’t even bother getting Eichi’s pants down before he moves, swallowing the first half of it in one gulp, working his way down over the rest with desperate little slurps. That thick cock bumps the back of his throat, but he ignores it, leaning into the feeling, letting it slip into his throat as his own cock throbs between his thighs.

  


Eichi arches up with a ragged gasp, his hands sliding up through Shu’s hair, clinging to him and pulling him down further as his cock swells between those perfect, soft lips, throbbing when he thrusts upward. “Fuck, you’re  _so_  good at that,” he whimpers, his eyes fluttering shut. “Every time I have dreams about you, it’s about  _this_ , god…” 

  


The words fall into Shu like stones into a pond, sending ripples of arousal through him—before disappearing entirely, consumed by the lust he feels, the attention he focuses on his task. Every thrust down his throat makes him messier, leaves more of a sticky taste behind on his lips, and he groans around the thick length, jaw aching as he forces it wider, wider, determined not to scrape his teeth on the sensitive flesh.  _Move in with me_ , he thinks, dazed,  _so I never have an empty mouth again_.

  


Warning Shu that he  _will_  come fast if he keeps it up is moot at this point. If anything, that should be a source of pride, because  _nothing_  makes him harder or come faster than Shu, and in this case, Shu’s mouth leaves him shivery and overstimulated already. His cock twitches between Shu’s lips, dripping over his tongue, down his throat, and each arc of his hips upward leaves his cock further buried down Shu’s throat. “Good boy,” he breathes, his nails scraping against Shu’s scalp. He’s not even sure if Shu is listening to him, but fuck it. “You’re so perfect—your mouth is j-just—“ 

  


The hard shiver that slides through him makes Eichi groan and arch, yanking on Shu’s hair to hold him down when he comes, suddenly spilling down Shu’s throat in long, aching pulses. He’d rather not let Shu up for air, actually, but his fingers give way with a weak little tremble. “Fuck,” he rasps eloquently, staring bleary-eyed up at Shu’s ceiling. “Ahhh… _fuck_.” 

  


Shu swallows hard, letting the nasty stuff trickle down into his belly before he pulls off, eyes red and stinging with tears making their way down through the foundation on his cheeks. He coughs a little into his hand, mouth feeling sticky and sore, and then finishes up, lapping at each stray drop as he trembles. “A-ah,” he says softly, feeling as sated as if he were the one being serviced. “I do…enjoy that, quite a bit.”

  


“Good, because you could only ever do that and I’d be happy,” Eichi dazedly breathes, tugging Shu up with shaking fingers and down into a wet, eager kiss, his tongue dragging against Shu’s. “I do  _not_ taste as good as you,” he breathlessly laughs. “Sorry.” 

  


Shu shrugs, the tips of his ears flushing pink with pleasure. “I, ah…when it’s something like this, I almost prefer it,” he admits breathlessly, winding his arms around Eichi. “It shouldn’t taste  _good_ , you know?”

  


“Mmnn…it tastes like a guy should taste, which is at least slightly gross, and that’s ideal,” Eichi agrees with a laugh, stealing another kiss as his fingers drag down Shu’s stomach, tugging at his trousers. “Off. Ahh, actually, what time is it?” he idly asks, glancing around for anything resembling a digital clock to no avail. Shu definitely lives in an antique store. “I’m on a schedule and I don’t want to pause half-way through something good.” 

  


Shu picks up a carved wooden clock from the bedside table, flipping up the case to reveal the time. “I hate ticking noises  _and_  electric lights,” he explains, and shows Eichi the face. “Just past nine in the evening. Tell me about this schedule.”

  


“The schedule that keeps me from dying, theoretically,” Eichi says, heaving a sigh as he pulls himself out of bed and tugs up his pants, very begrudgingly. “And I’m late. Damn, that must suck, lights and ticking noises? How do you live?” he asks, unzipping the bag Mika had thrown into the room as well before leaving. He tosses his pill case and inhaler onto the bed, followed by both a bottle of water…and a bottle of lube, because  _he_  doesn’t know how much Shu has around. “What else gets to you, so I can attempt to avoid this and maybe build you a perfect oasis at some point in my estate so you never leave.” 

  


“Cheap textures,” Shu says immediately. “Especially with fabric. And any sort of fluorescent lighting will immediately give me a migraine. The sounds of styrofoam—actually, anything about styrofoam, if you make me touch it I’ll break up with you. Alarms of any kind. Bells can stay, but they’re on thin ice. Do you want the list of taste and smell things as well?”

  


“I don’t even know what styrofoam is?” Eichi offers with a little laugh, plopping back down onto the foot of the bed. “You can give me a list later, I have a feeling it’s long. I’ll do what I can to keep all of it out of your life. Also, you  _know_  you don’t need to worry about cheap textures around me, and flickery, fluorescent light gives me migraines, too, and sometimes seizures. Hey, wanna see how I trained  _my_  gag reflex away?” 

  


Shu’s head cocks to the side. “I just used a toothbrush, how did you do it?”

  


“…Did you seriously…never mind, of course you did.” Eichi rolls his eyes, flipping open his pill case to pull out eight different pills that absolutely look like they are made for horses, not humans, before tossing them into his mouth, swallowing them mostly dry, then chasing them with a gulp of water. “Like that. I’m saving my sleeping pill, by the way—you’ve got a choice of only having me for another hour now, which I dislike,  _or_  dealing with me being kinda loopy and weird in the morning if I take it later.” 

  


Shu smiles to himself, and curls around Eichi, letting his chin hook over his shoulder from behind. “I don’t hate that I’ll have you in the morning,” he says quietly. “I don’t care if you’re stranger than usual.”

  


“Ehh, stranger than usual? That’s mean, I’m a delight,” Eichi complains, though without any vitriol. He leans back against Shu, turning his head to press a kiss to his cheek, then to butt his face gently against him. “Maybe  _you_  should show up with your back all scratched up tomorrow,” he teases. “The school will dissolve into scandal.” 

  


“Unlike my friends,” Shu says with a sniff, “I do not delight in showing off my body to strangers. I keep tightly buttoned-up in public, thank you very much.”

  


“Yes, but  _I’ll_  know you’re all chewed up underneath, and if I poke you just right in class, you’ll bolt and shriek and I think that’s good.” 

  


“I think that is less than good! Do you want people to find out about us?”

  


“No, but you bolt and shriek if I as much as breathe on you, so it’s not like any of them will assume anything different than usual.” Eichi’s eyebrows raise as he takes a snap at Shu’s neck. “Also, you’re the one that brought a vibrator to class. Don’t scold  _me_  for wanting to poke you.” 

  


Shu opens his mouth, then shuts it again, the tips of his ears turning pink. “You, ah, may have a point there,” he admits, burying his face in Eichi’s shoulder. “Be silent, I was…I woke up quite aroused that day.”

  


“Cute. You should wake up turned on every day.” Eichi flops backwards, dragging Shu with him and immediately going for Shu’s belt again. “If you lived with me, I’d take care of you properly so you wouldn’t have to embarrass yourself in class.” 

  


“If I lived with you,” Shu says wryly, lying back on his elbows, watching Eichi’s hands work, “I doubt either of us would ever leave the bed. Seems counterproductive.”

  


“You can conduct a  _lot_  of business from bed,” Eichi dismisses with a smile, flipping open the buckle and pulling Shu’s belt free, tossing it aside to the floor. “I suppose we’d both have to leave from time to time, but…well, we could just call that foreplay, too. I’m fairly certain that’s what watching you on stage is.” 

  


“Of course.” Shu smiles, and reaches down, cupping Eichi’s face with one hand, eyes heated. “Well, some Lives are simply high Art, of course. But others….yes. They are intended to arouse the senses, after all.”

  


“…If I tell you I just like watching your ass, are you going to kill me?” 

  


“No, but I might ban you from my Lives. Choose wisely.”

  


“You can’t ban me, I’m the president. Besides, I’m lying, anyway. Your ass is only fifty percent of the appeal.” Eichi surges up to kiss Shu again, his teeth catching against his bottom lip. He tugs open the front of Shu’s trousers, his fingers dipping inside to curl around his cock. It makes his breath hiccup, and he squeezes slowly. “The other fifty percent is just you being so… _good_.” 

  


  


“An artist,” Shu breathes, flopping back against the bed, stretching his hands up to curl around the headboard. “And having that art be appreciated is…nnh, it catches my interest, at least…ah, don’t tease me, at least put your fingers in me…”

  


“Hush, I’ll play with you how I like.” Eichi slides up to nip at Shu’s throat, but his fingers move all the same, tugging Shu’s trousers off until they’re easily kicked aside. “You’re such a cockslut.” 

  


Shu arches suddenly, breath catching more at the words than at any touch. “F-fair enough,” he stammers. “However you like, then…I’m yours to play with.”

  


“Good boy.” Eichi mouths a kiss over where he’d bitten, sucking on that soft skin as he pulls his hand away to fumble for the bottle of lube. His own cock is  _interested_ , but that doesn’t mean it’s hard enough to do anything, so Shu has a point about putting his fingers to good use. Once slick to the point of dripping, he reaches around, dragging a pair of them down the cleft of Shu’s ass before letting them sink inside, pressing them nice and deep from the start. “You’re so needy sometimes,” Eichi murmurs, nuzzling up into Shu’s neck. “It’s cute.” 

  


Shu exhales deeply, relaxing as if he’s receiving a deep tissue massage instead of getting a couple of fingers stuffed inside him. “That’s better,” he murmurs, eyes fluttering. “Nnh, I think you’ve, ah, trained me, somehow…I rarely feel like achieving climax anymore unless there’s something…back there…”

  


“And it’s s~o hard to get the right angle by yourself,” Eichi sympathetically says, turning his wrist to press his fingers inside even deeper before he curls them towards him, finding that now-familiar little textured bump inside. “And toys are kind of boring, at the end of the day…what’s the point if someone’s not touching you?” He slides his other hand up Shu’s chest, undoing a couple of buttons to get at bare skin before he rubs his thumb slowly over a hard nipple. “ _These_  are the best, though.” 

  


“Ahh!” 

  


Shu doesn’t try to bite back his cry—there are some advantages to being in his own house all alone with his boyfriend, he supposes—and bites his fist as his cock starts to dribble fluid. His mind fizzles pleasantly, clicking off in that now-familiar way that means someone’s playing with him properly, thighs parting as his chest heaves. “More,” he moans, eyes fluttering closed. “More, more, don’t stop touching me, right there—“

  


“ _Really?_ Right here?” Eichi’s fingers thrust in harder, stroking over that same spot again and again. “It’s almost like I know you. Mmn, don’t keep your voice down, it’s so hot when you start whining like that,” he sighs, shoving a thigh between Shu’s legs to give him something to grind on while his fingers work him over. “No one will ever take care of you like I do. But you’re such a good boy, I guess I’ll have to keep you…” 

  


“P-please—“

  


Shu knows it’s bad if he’s  _begging_ , and he is now, splayed out under Eichi’s hands, humping mindlessly down against those perfect, pressing,  _seeking_  fingers. “You can just, nnh, you can keep them there, as long, ah, as…as long as you want…” It sounds good right now, being kept, being played with all day, being a toy in Eichi’s careful hands.

  


“Don’t tell me that, or I’ll never let you go,” Eichi murmurs, his breath hitching as he spreads his fingers further apart, then slowly wriggles in a third one, feeling the twitch and stretch of Shu’s body around them as he thrusts them inside. He avoids that perfect angle for a moment, choosing instead to make Shu squirm as he ducks his head to drag his teeth over a nipple, pulling on it, dragging his tongue over it, but gives into the urge to thoroughly milk every reaction after a moment. His fingers press in deliberately, stroking slowly, fucking him thoroughly. 

  


The noises escaping from Shu’s mouth grow in volume from a low growl to a groan to a final flurry of squeaks and squeals as he writhes, tense and shaking, squeezing down to make Eichi’s fingers feel even bigger, even deeper in him. They reach a fever pitch when Eichi starts biting his nipple, and he rakes his nails down Eichi’s back, hissing, “If you, I’m going to, I’m—“

  


Eichi hisses out a breath through his teeth, and he flicks his tongue over that nipple again, tugging on it before releasing it and switching to the other one. “I want you to,” he groans, arching underneath the drag of Shu’s nails, feeling the stinging aftermath already blossom on his skin. His fingers mercilessly rub against that textured bundle of nerves, again and again, only pressing harder when he feels Shu clench and shudder. “Be good for me. You were begging so cutely, weren’t you? I’m giving you permission.” 

  


It’s not even another second before Shu spills over his own stomach, arcing back so hard that his back comes off the bed, heels planted in the sheets as he shudders, coming what seems like forever. At the end, he goes boneless, flopping back with an aching whine. “Eichi,” he breathes, hands wiping down his face. “I, ah, I feel like if you keep, nnh, keep going…”

  


“If I keep going…?” Eichi teases breathlessly, his eyes dragging down over the mess on Shu’s stomach, and his other hand follows, trailing through the sticky mess before bringing it to his lips. He sucks his fingers clean with a shiver, the fingers inside of Shu twisting and stroking slowly, fucking him through the spasms and shivers of his orgasm. “Sorry that my dick’s being a pain,” he murmurs, his fingers pressing deeper when Shu’s back arches. “Doesn’t seem like you mind too much, though.” 

  


Shu moans, clinging to Eichi, thighs spasming with being clenched for too long, his hole tightening hard. “S’fine,” he pants, eyes squeezed tightly shut as more fluid leaks from his cock, dribbling over his stomach in a steady stream as his body shudders. “But if you keep going…I’ll keep…coming…”

  


“Is that supposed to discourage me?” Eichi kisses his way back up to Shu’s neck, marking him up with long, lingering kisses and sucks as his fingers fuck in slowly. “You’re so beautiful when you’re like this…mmnn, having you like this might be my favorite, actually…” 

  


Shu tries to talk, but everything he tries to say dies in a storm of shouts, moans, and little yelps, getting louder and softer every time Eichi thrusts in, until nothing makes sense anymore, and he’s adrift in a sea of pleasure, riding the wave as he comes over and over again, one long wave that keeps crashing through his body, leaving him a shivering wreck when it finally recedes. “S-stop, stop, stop, please,” he whispers, slapping frantically at Eichi’s hand when the sensations abruptly shift from pleasure to overstimulated pain.

  


“Yes, yes, I’m hearing you, take it easy,” Eichi hums, slowly withdrawing his hand when Shu’s body relaxes enough to  _let_  him. There’s a mess of slick, sticky fluid plastering them together at this point, sticking to Shu’s stomach and rubbing onto Eichi’s as well. “You…should probably drink some water,” he laughs, twisting away to grab his own water bottle. “I don’t think I’ve ever made you come that much before.” 

  


Shu whimpers, curling on his side, uncaring of the mess. “It, ah…I’ve never…so much,” he breathes, clinging to a pillow, “in…ever, ah…get up here and spoon me before I drink, please.”

  


“Okay, but move out of the wet spot, you’re going to be more of a mess,” Eichi patiently sighs, tugging Shu further out of it and crawling around to his other side to spoon up behind him. He presses the water bottle against Shu’s chest, and buries his face down into his hair. “Better?” 

  


Shu takes a sloppy few drinks, getting most of the water in his mouth before just collapsing back against Eichi. “Much,” he admits. “Thank you. I feel…raw.”

  


“But in a good way, right?” Eichi tightens his arms firmly around Shu’s waist as he nuzzles at his neck. “We broke your bed in officially. Isn’t that good?” 

  


“Is it good? It mostly feels…ah…messy?”

  


“It’s definitely good. I’ve marked my territory.” Eichi hooks his chin over Shu’s shoulder, beaming. “Let me come over more often and we can do this alllll the time.” 

  


“…All right.” Shu supposes he should really be objecting more, but in his defense, he’s never come quite so hard. “We should…get another bed. Just for sex. So this one can stay clean.”

  


“Do you really not have another bed?” Eichi curiously asks, idly running his fingers down Shu’s stomach, amused at the mess cooling there. “If I buy you one, do you have the space for it? Your house doesn’t look small, but it’s kind of full of dolls, isn’t it…” 

  


“Very full of dolls,” Shu agrees sleepily, feeling as if all the feeling has drained from him along with his energy, snuggling up against Eichi’s side. “And the top floor is just sewing.”

  


“Then you’ll just have to figure out what you want more,” Eichi says, unfazed, grabbing for his pill case half-heartedly to pop his sleeping pill down. “A bed  _just_  for sex, or unlimited doll rooms.” 

  


“I…hmm.” Shu blinks slowly, and his eyes refuse to open again. “Sophie’s Choice, is it?”

  


“What? Whatever, talk to me about it later,” Eichi grumbles, tightening his arms around Shu to use him very much like he would a body pillow. “You’re  _so_  warm. It’s good.” 

  


Morning comes, and Mika can’t remember a time when  _he_  has had to wake Shu up. 

  


Mika stands at the foot of the bed, staring, skeptical, knife in hand from attempting (failing) breakfast. The sight of Tenshouin Eichi using  _his_  Oshi-san as one glorified body pillow is really…something, that’s for sure, especially when Shu actually looks properly restrained and unable to kick and fuss all night like he usually would. “Oshi-san,” he wearily tries, then, again, louder, “ _Oshi-san_. You gotta get up. School’s in like, less than an hour.” 

  


  


Shu starts awake, then lets out a squawk at the late hour, grabbing the wooden clock and staring at it in growing horror. “I—Kagehira, how could you let me sleep so—“

  


Then he looks down at the person cuddled up to him, and blushes hard.

  


_Right_.

  


“Eichi—oy, wake up, don’t make me take care of this as well, get up on your own at least!”

  


Eichi exhales a groggy, grumbling sound, his arms tightening around Shu as he buries his face down into Shu’s back, refusing to let up even in his still  _very_  much asleep state. “Shh. Warm.” 

  


Mika casually switches his grip on the knife in his hand. “I can cut ‘im off you, Oshi-san.”

  


“No, no, that won’t be necessary,” Shu says hastily, though he pries Eichi’s arms off of his waist with some effort, standing and fumbling for his dressing gown. “Tenshouin, you useless person, don’t make me invoke a person called  _Hasumi_. Also, Kagehira has a knife, so perhaps you should behave.”

  


Entirely unfazed (and definitely still unconscious), Eichi rolls to the side, yanks the blankets up higher, and grabs the pillow Shu had been sleeping on in Shu’s absence to promptly cuddle up to. 

  


“Jus’ leave ‘im,” Mika says with a shrug. “I ain’t gonna stab him in your bed, anyway. Too bloody, never get it out of the lace. Also, I hear he’s got a gun.” 

  


Shu stares at Mika for a long moment, then shakes his head, dismissing it as ‘just Kagehira being strange again.’ “Yes, well, I’ll try again once I’m dressed and ready. Is breakfast happening, or shall we stop for something on the way to school?”

  


“Uhhh…” Mika glances down at his knife, then shrugs. “Probably not. Bakery might be better.” He hesitates, then sidles up to Shu, lowering his voice to a whisper that he’s sure Eichi can’t hear (no matter that he’s still sleeping): “Did y’ _see_  the gun yet? You’ve been t’his house, right?” 

  


Shu rolls his eyes. “This isn’t a film or some sordid novel, Kagehira. Of course he hasn’t got a gun, this is Japan.” He tugs on his stockings, then slips on his slippers, tugging Mika out of the room. “Does he look like he’s allowed to have a gun?”

  


“Yeah,” Mika says without batting an eye, sparing a last, wary look back at Eichi, who looks way less threatening while asleep, but  _definitely_  still bad. “Definitely. He’s big an’ scary. Does he have tattoos? I bet he does, I bet he’s hidin’ ‘em.” 

  


“You fool, do you think there’s any inch of him that I haven’t seen? No, he doesn’t have any  _tattoos_!”

  


Mika still looks extremely skeptical. “Seems fake. He’s scary, I wouldn’t trust it.” 

  


Shu sighs, and rubs at his temples. “It’s too early for this, Kagehira. And when did you get in, anyway? You should have woken me up to tell me you got home safe,” he lectures, fussing over Mika’s hair and collar.

  


“I came back last night,” Mika says, unfazed by Shu’s fussing. He goes still to let it happen, even as his tongue sticks out a bit. “And slept on the couch. I went up t’check on you, and y’looked reeeeal comfy, Oshi-san.” At this point, there’s nothing to do but sort of…exasperatedly pick on him. “I ain’t never seen you sleepin’ so deep.” 

  


Shu makes a clucking sound with his tongue, and fusses each bit back into place, one by one. “I do wish you’d woken me,” he says, frowning. “I didn’t want to put you out, you could have come into the bed. I’d have made him leave and sleep on the sofa, it’s your house, too.”

  


“Oshi-san,” Mika patiently says, “I ain’t gonna kick your boyfriend out of bed if he’s makin’ you happy. You were in my spot, not him, anyway. That’s the part I hate.” 

  


“I…oh. I’m sorry.” Shu purses his lips, and turns away, heading for the promised breakfast. “Well. Then perhaps I’ll treat you to something nice later. Also, we can reschedule Bear Day, of course.”

  


“It was  _supposed_  to be grilled fish ’n rice but I kinda messed it up,” Mika sheepishly says, slinking in after him. “So y’might not want it. We can just make Bear Day  _longer_  next week, that’s okay. Um—d’you think we can at least move ‘im t’the couch before we gotta go? Then I can put the sheets in th’ wash at least, heh….” 

  


“Y-you don’t have to do that,” Shu says hastily, and starts throwing some food together, looking at the mangled fish with a critical eye before chopping it up, tossing it in a frying pan with some of the rice and a few seasonings. “I’ll take care of the laundry today, you’d probably wear spots in them anyway. And yes, feel free to go poke him again—gently _, and without the knife_.”

  


Mika hesitates, then sighs, begrudgingly putting the knife down. “He deserves t’be stabbed at least once,” he says. “Builds character.” 

  


Then, he disappears upstairs again, only to return a few minutes later, looking even more skeptical than before. “He says he’s comin’, but I don’t believe ‘im. Stupid rich kids, I bet his butler dresses him in the mornin’. I ain’t gonna butler him.” 

  


“Is ‘butler’ a verb?” Eichi sleepily calls from upstairs, yawning behind his hand as he  _slowly_  makes his way down the stairs. He’s dressed, more or less, though he’s given up on his tie and looks all the world like he could fall asleep again at any moment. “Shuuu. What kind of dakimakura gets up and leaves, huh?” 

  


Two steps into the kitchen, and Eichi drapes himself against Shu’s back, nuzzling into the back of his neck. “Mean. Come back to bed with me. We can skip, we’re the sick kids.” 

  


An attractive argument, Shu must admit. He considers that, then shakes his head with a regretful sigh. “I must set a good example for Kagehira. I never miss school for fun, only when I’m feeling constitutionally incapable. Honestly,  _are_  you able to dress yourself without a butler…butling, as Kagehira postulates?”

  


“I know how to put clothes on,” Eichi grumbles, not releasing Shu for a moment. “But that doesn’t mean I  _want_  to.”

  


Mika’s eyebrows remain sky high, but he keeps his mouth shut except to shovel a bowl of nothing but rice into it. 

  


“You know how you’d be even cuter? A frilly apron. If you don’t have one, I’m buying you one. And you can wear it with  _nothing else._ ” 

  


Slowly, Shu turns to stare at Eichi. “In what universe,” he asks, blinking rapidly, “do I  _not_  own a frilly apron? Not that I’d refuse if you wanted to buy me another, of course, but honestly, who do you think you’re talking to? Kagehira, take more fish.”

  


“Ummm…I think I’m okay, Oshi-san—“ 

  


“If you put it on,” Eichi says, very seriously, as he backs Shu up against the kitchen countertop and boxes him in, “I will fuck you over the counter  _right now._ ” 

  


Mika bites back a snort of amusement in spite of himself, and promptly skitters out of the kitchen. “Gonna go strip those sheets, Oshi-san!” 

  


“You—both of you,  _stop this nonsense!”_

  


Shu’s voice becomes startlingly deep and commanding, and he folds his arms over his chest, glowering at both of them. “I will  _not_  be bullied in my own home. Kagehira, you eat your fish, sit down and do it properly. And  _you_ , Tenshouin, you sit there with him, eat, and get along. You won’t be leaving my house malnourished, and you  _certainly_  won’t be defiling my kitchen!”

  


Mika  _immediately_  slinks back to the table, huddling up around his bowl, and Eichi blinks, shrugs, then plops down without any protest. “I can’t eat until ten in the morning or I’ll die,” he cheerfully explains. “But thanks for the meal, anyway. I guess it’s better that you’re scolding me, because I definitely want to eat you, and like I said…I’ll die.” 

  


He yawns into his hand, slumping forward into it afterwards, and almost instantly starts to doze. Mika watches over his chopsticks, sort of mystified. “He’s almost like Ricchan…” he whispers, squinting. “Oshi-san, did y’break ‘im?” 

  


“Ridiculous,” Shu says flatly, though he does worriedly pile food into Eichi’s bowl, then sits next to him, poking at his shoulder. “Don’t be like this, or I  _will_  break into your phone to discover Hasumi’s number, and I do  _not_  want to know Hasumi’s number!”

  


“Stooop, he’s already gonna be cross with me because he’s definitely in trouble by now,” Eichi mumbles, swatting Shu’s hand away without cracking open his eyes. “I told you—at least, I think I told you?—last night. I definitely told you. And stop trying to feed me or I’m going to be sick, for real.” 

  


Mika decides, that while Eichi is compromised, this is a logical time to ask important questions that he might otherwise not get an answer to. “D’you have a gun?”

  


“Yes. Who told you?” 

  


“No one special. See, Oshi-san, he has a gun.” 

  


“Stop it, Eichi,” Shu says wearily. “He’ll think you’re telling the truth, his head is soft and full of pudding.” But he takes Eichi’s bowl, sliding it in front of his own place and delicately picking out single grains to eat.

  


“I am telling the truth. My grandfather got it for me as a birthday present.” 

  


“See?” Mika hisses, jabbing his chopsticks in Eichi’s direction. “He’s got a gun. That’s how I know he’s sneaky an’ got tattoos!” 

  


“Oh,” Eichi sighs, cracking open his eyes, “I’m not allowed to do that. But I wish, they sound fun.” 

  


“Can you not understand the words I am saying?” Shu snaps. “He does not have  _tattoos_ , I’ve seen every—well—just know that he doesn’t! You’re both putting me off my appetite, stop it!”

  


“Do you know who  _should_  have tattoos?” Eichi says, unfazed by Shu’s bitching. “Yuzuru. But it’s my fault he doesn’t, in a kind of round about way. Don’t repeat that, but now you know.” 

  


Mika shuts his mouth for a moment, staring wide-eyed, then shoves another hunk of rice in and chews slowly. 

  


“I think he’s heard some rumors about me,” Eichi stage-whispers to Shu as he leans over. “Sorry.” 

  


Irritably, Shu pushes his rice away, and stalks out of the room, feeling his nerves jangling as if a hundred cell phones were going off near him at once, slamming the door behind him.

  


“Ahh…he did that thing,” Eichi mildly remarks, yawning into his hand again and fumbling for his phone out of his pocket. “Sorry, I’ll stop talking now. You can tell him I’m leaving, I’m making Keito come meet me.” 

  


Mika says nothing as he climbs to his feet, all but tip-toeing after Shu. “Oshi-san?” he hesitantly calls as he plasters himself up against the door Shu disappeared behind. “He’s gonna go…d’you want me to get th’ safety snuggly blanket, or…” 

  


“No,” Shu’s voice comes through the door. “I’m quite cross with you, Kagehira, and I don’t want to see you. Or him, tell him to go to hell.”

  


Mika hesitates, then nods to himself, and slinks away. “He says y’can go to hell,” he offers up to Eichi, who merely blinks, then shrugs. 

  


“We’re all Buddhist, aren’t we? I’ll probably just get turned into a bug.” Eichi hauls himself to his feet on wobbly legs. “Later, Itsuki-kun,” he calls, dragging his bag with him. “If you skip school after this and I didn’t, I’m going to be super annoyed with you.” 

  


**To: Keito**

**Subject: sooo**

**can you come meet me near itsuki-kuns i am. kinda doomed to be in trouble and so are you so lets just go down together**

  


**To: Keito**

**Subject: also**

**did u ask Him out on a date how it go.**

  


**To: Eichi**

**Subject:**

**On My Way!**

  


**To: Eichi**

**Subject: phone**

**how did it know what I was goi to say.**

  


**To: Keito**

**Subject: magic**

**obviously**

  


**To: Keito**

**Subject: btw**

**i took my sleeping pill WAY TOO LATE last night so u get me like This**

  


Eichi pauses before he gets to the door, sparing a glance back to Mika huddled neatly up at Shu’s door, picking at his sleeve hems. In the daylight, Shu’s house is even  _frillier_ , and Eichi wishes he was at least a bit more…capable of focusing on that and observing it right now. On an afterthought, he opens up his bag, tugs out a notebook and pen, and leaves a note, written in flowing, English calligraphy stuck in the shut front door before closing it behind him. If anyone can read it, Shu can, he figures. 

  


**Juliet,**

**Sorry! I’m unpleasant in the morning and worse when I’m medicated. Thanks for the lovely evening, try not to hate me too much.**

  


**(you make a very nice pillow, by the way)**

  


**Love,**

**Romeo**

  


It’s better to leave before Shu discovers that and makes this embarrassing. Eichi hurriedly makes his way to the street, huddling up around his phone. 

 


	13. Chapter 13

 

Shu’s early morning freakout is something Eichi only vaguely remembers later that day. _Whoops_ , his mind offers up when it’s less fuzzy. Shu being the way that Shu is seems to be mildly similar to his mother, but a much lighter, more tolerable version, like the way she gets when a servant brings her the exact brand of tea she requested, but that she doesn’t remember requesting, and therefore, pitches a fit over.

 

Unfortunately, Eichi doesn’t have another chance to apologize to Shu in a way that isn’t written, because by skipping out on going home last night, it turns out he missed an important scheduling change—a party, _tonight_ , that he has to attend, or _else_. The scolding he receives from his father is tiresome. It’s not like he minds parties; in fact, he usually enjoys them, but in this case, it just makes him fidgety and grumpy. He’d much rather, it turns out, sneak out to visit his neurotic boyfriend again.

 

Eichi makes the best of it, like he does with many things about his life. In this case, that’s by subtly snagging an expensive bottle of wine and slipping out to the gardens once he’s done his social rounds. It’s chilly out, but with wine in hand, that shouldn’t bother him for long. Two nights in a row, making mistakes with medication like this—he’ll pay for it, but oh well.

 

He doesn’t expect to have company, but huddled up in his wool suit jacket and looking _very_ tamed and polished is Hakaze Kaoru. Eichi pauses, then shrugs to himself, and greets his classmate with a smile. “Hi,” he says, dropping down next to him. “You, too, huh?”

 

Kaoru looks up in sudden interest, but it dims quickly when he catches sight of who’s making the offer. He sighs, leaning back in his tailored suit, looking every inch the wealthy scion, and unhappy about it. He waves a hand. “You could have at least brought a girl. Then I’d have been interested. But I’m not now, because you’re a guy.”

 

“I brought wine.”

 

“…Hey, you’re suddenly kind of interesting! Are there cups?”

 

“I have one, and I’m willing to share because I’m _so_ nice,” Eichi sweetly says, plopping down entirely and uncorking the wine bottle. “So long as you’re not afraid of indirect kisses, of course.”

 

Kaoru wavers for a moment, then shrugs. “I can drink from the other side. Alcohol kills the germs, right? Even guy germs. Hey, that’s a good wine!” He doesn’t actually know anything about wine, but he _does_ know enough to act impressed when a rich guy brings booze.

 

“Is it? I stole the first one I could get my hands on when my dad wasn’t looking,” Eichi says with a laugh, pouring out a full glass and taking a long gulp of it before passing it over. “I’m amazed they dragged you out here. You usually get to skip because of your brother, right?”

 

Kaoru nods, carefully turning the glass to the other side before he puts his mouth on it, draining a long swig, breaking that up into a few separate little sips. “Mm, usually, but this time’s special. Nii-san has some big merger to announce, so there’s got to be a show of solidarity—you know, convince the others that we’re some huge conglomerate, they should all invest, blah blah blah. I already did my part, though, so I’m free now. Not free to leave, or anything, but…yeah.”

 

“I’m just here to prove I’m still living and not a lie my grandfather likes to tell,” Eichi says with a shrug, taking the glass back after a moment. Uncaring, he takes a sip from the exact spot Kaoru had, and already feels his head start to become fuzzy. It never takes much, but with strong, red wine, he’s not sure what he expects. “These parties would be so much more fun if there were girls.”

 

“Right?” Kaoru asks, eyes wide in urgent confusion. “Seriously, you’d think they’d want us to pay attention and _want_ to attend, but how are we supposed to do that if there are no girls here? I mostly just feel like dying all the time.”

 

“Dying is a little extreme,” Eichi mildly says, passing the wine glass back over. “Though I agree about being bored…girls flutter. Especially rich girls. Here I thought you’d have at least become more than five percent interested in boys, though…”

 

Kaoru’s eyebrows raise, in what he thinks is an incredibly cool and good job of being amused and disinterested. “What, just because I go to that school full of guys? Ahh, but it’s totally like hell, honestly…Anzu-chan makes it _much_ more bearable.”

 

“Uh huh. You need to drink more. I like tits, but I’m not talking about them all night.”

 

“Wow. Just because I love girls doesn’t mean I talk about them in a vulgar way, you know. I respect the whole woman, not just her parts.” Though he does follow this proclamation with a wink, though to whom it’s intended is anyone’s guess.

 

“Sure. Here’s a fun party game—in our class, who would have the biggest tits if they were a girl?” Eichi gives up on sharing the wine glass, and simply tips the bottle into his mouth. “I’ll give you my opinion first. Itsuki-kun.”

 

“Nah, it’s Mikejima,” Kaoru says instantly. “That Mama thing he’s got going on. Itsuki’s would probably be better, though. Real firm, with little nipples. Then after that is Sena, you, me, Morisawa, and Hasumi. Duh.”

 

Eichi makes a face, turning his nose up immediately at the idea of _Madara_ having big tits. “I don’t want to think about Mikejima-kun’s. Itsuki-kun’s, though, I agree, are superior. My tits would be bigger than Sena-kun’s, though, and you…well…hmm.”

 

Kaoru frowns, tapping a finger on the ground. “I dunno. I mean, yeah, he’s a ballerina or whatever, but you’re really skinny, and he’s got all that meat on his ass. Trust me, he sits in front of me.”

 

“Okay, but one has to assume boob size and dick size are at least somewhat directly proportional if you’re coming up with genderbent versions of people,” Eichi insists, which sounds totally logical when he’s slightly tipsy. Keito would get this. “So my boobs would definitely be bigger than Sena-kun’s.”

 

Kaoru’s eyes widen, and he holds up his hands. “Uh, okay, man. If you’re bringing up stuff like that, heh, I don’t look at dicks.” He does, however, take another pull from the bottle, because that seems like a good idea.

 

Eichi stares at him for a moment, and decides not to mention that _that_ was definitely an indirect kiss. Not yet. He’ll mention it later. “Sure. How big do you think the tits in 3-B are? Wataru’s are incredible.”

 

“Sakuma-san’s is bigger. Are bigger. Tits.” Whoops.

 

That’s an interesting slip that Eichi files away instinctively. “Nice. You’re right. I think Tsumugi’s are probably as big as they come, unfortunately,” he grouses, pulling the bottle back to himself. “And floppy. Soft, though.”

 

“Soft tits are good,” Kaoru agrees, stretching out his legs. “Man, 3-B would have a lot of big ones. Kanata would have huge ones too, you know? They’d float around in water real cute…ah, I bet that big redheaded guy, whatever his name is, I bet he’d have some big knockers too.”

 

“Kiryuu-kun definitely would have big tits. Damn, you’re right, they’d all be huge,” Eichi sighs, his eyes glazing over a bit. “That sounds nice. Okay, but level with me. This school turns people at least a little…you know.” If he has to sugarcoat around Kaoru, he’ll do it, damn it.

 

Kaoru considers that for a moment, but lets the alcohol ease him into making some admissions. “Before coming to that school,” he says slowly, “I never would have even thought once about how big my guy classmates’ tits would be if they were girls. Being there without any girls…it’d make any guy a little crazy, right?”

 

“Mmhmm. Especially when you start to think they’d be hot with or without tits, right?” _I have always liked guys and you’ve been missing out!_ he wants to shriek, but whatever. He can fake this for five minutes. “Some of them still have great asses, so I guess that’s only fair…like Sena-kun—Itsuki-kun—Nito-kun…”

 

“He’d have really small tits,” Kaoru says immediately, then holds up his hand, as if cupping. “Hella firm, though, With reeeeally cute little nipples, all pink and sensitive, for sure.”

 

“Just like Tsukinaga-kun’s,” Eichi immediately supplies. “Though he’d be like…pancake. Total pancake. And suuper sensitive. From behind, he already looks like a girl, that’s not fair.”

 

“Right!” Kaoru relaxes, realizing they have some very compatible views. “It’s a total trap, right? Because from behind, he looks so good, but then he turns around, and it’s like, whoa, that’s not what I asked for! Both Nazuna _and_ Tsukibana.”

 

“Right, right. It’s actually kinda…hmmm. Like, I like that, they’re both super cute, I’d hit it, but in general, if I’m gonna chase after a guy, it’s going to be a guy that really _looks_ like a guy. Girly guys are just…guys that aren’t quite as pretty as girls.” Eichi takes another sip from the wine bottle, and _hears_ his pulse. “You know?”

 

Kaoru points, firm without accuracy. “Right. You _get it._ Because if I was gonna go out with a guy, it wouldn’t be some, like…okay, Nazuna is cute for a guy, right? But if he was next to a girl, suddenly he’d look like a bad knockoff, you know? So give me a real guy, that’s what I’d want if I went gay.”

 

“Exactly! Girls are best if they’re…little, and cute, and delicate and…breakable. Not that I’m going around breaking any girls,” Eichi says with a laugh, passing the wine bottle back over. “But you get it, right? So next to that, guys should be tall and handsome and able to break me over their knee if I want them to. Wataru,” he firmly says, flapping a hand as he goes on the offensive, because he’s _curious:_ “Or…or the tall, dark, and handsome kind, like Sakuma-san.”

 

“…Yeah,” Kaoru says finally, deciding that he’s tipsy enough to play along at this point, after another long pull. Yep, definitely feeling that. Nice. “I, totally, yeah, you’re right. Someone tall and pale and delicate like that, but he’s also got, like, this steel core, right? Hey, you’re into Itsuki, right?”

 

Eichi is more than willing to offer up a bit of skin if it means he gets quite a bit back, and Kaoru, it seems, is willing to _provide._ “Is it that obvious?” he groans, slumping back onto his hands. “He’s so…frilly, and prissy, and flutters like a bird, but he’s just—he could slap me around and I’d thank him.”

 

Kaoru looks at Eichi for a long, increasingly dizzy moment, taking another swig of wine. “This stuff doesn’t burn as much as most wine,” he finally says, and sets down the bottle. “All right. He’s not my type, even my guy type, because he’s too mean. And not in a way that’s fun to tease, like Souma-kun.”

  


“Ahhh. I love when he’s mean,” Eichi wistfully says, tugging the bottle back over and just holding it for a moment. “I want him to spit on my face…or slap me…or just hold me down and do whatever he wants. And he has a nice dick. Like, really nice. Does that mean Sakuma-san’s awfully sweet to you, if you don’t like mean guys?” 

  


Kaoru stares, less dizzy but more startled. “Uh…wow. That was pretty, uh, graphic? You think about this a lot, I guess…and yeah, he’s pretty nice? I mean, when we’re alone.” Is that too much information? Nah, a lot of guys spend time together. “Not alone together in, like, a weird way, or…whatever.” 

  


“Of course it’s not a weird way. But how big is his dick. That’s an important question. What’s the point in dating a guy if he doesn’t have a big one?” 

  


“Uh…well…” Something occurs to Kaoru, and he beams, having come up with a perfect excuse. “We all went on that summer camp training thing, right? So we bathed together. Anyway, that’s how I know. It’s huge. Like…the size of your forearm.”

  


Eichi stares at him, then down at his arm, then up at Kaoru again. “No way. Also, you need to drink more if that’s the excuse you’re going to give me.” He leans closer. “Hakaze-kun. Yumenosaki  _turns guys homo_. It’s not your fault.” 

  


Kaoru nearly knocks the wine over as he turns, suddenly urgent, grabbing Eichi’s arm. “Right? Right? I’d literally never even  _looked_  at a guy before going there, now all of a sudden I know what it’s like to  _make out_  with one? Totally not fair! Ugh, it’s not my  _fault_ , he’s got those pretty musician fingers or whatever, it’s cheating!”

  


Nailed it. Eichi tries not to look smug, and probably fails a little, but that’s fine, because now he’s really got Kaoru talking. “I know, I know—Keito’s told me all about it, too, it’s not like I don’t get it,” he says sympathetically, patting Kaoru’s knee. “Is he really that good with his fingers? I’m kinda jealous.” 

  


“ _So_  good,” Kaoru moans, dragging a hand down his face. “Like, better at using them than any girl who’s ever…you know how girls like to play with a guy’s ass, right?”

  


“Sure,” Eichi offers up, even though he does not, in fact, know about that. “So he’s better than that. I’m definitely jealous. Keito never let him do that, so I never got any details…mmn, so, have you like—done it all the way? Even though he’s that big?” 

  


Kaoru starts to say something, then pauses, suddenly wary. He studies Eichi’s face, then decides he’s drunk enough. “You’re drunk too, right?” he demands. “So it doesn’t count, whatever we say?”

  


“I’m drunk,” Eichi confirms, blinking back at him, wide-eyed and innocent. “And guess what—I won’t remember this. Wine and prescription drugs do  _not_  mix well.” 

  


“Oh! Cool! Yeah. We did it,” Kaoru finally admits in a rush of breath, relieved. “In the fun way.”

  


Eichi takes another sip of wine to confirm their solidarity in this. “ _Right?_  Like—putting it in is great, but, if you’re gonna put in the effort to be with a guy…if  _they_  top, that—“ He leans in again, a hand on Kaoru’s shoulder. “ _That’s_  the best way. Honestly. But only if they’re big.” 

  


“I’ve never done it with another guy like that,” Kaoru says hastily, before Eichi can get the wrong idea. “But, like,  _right_? I mean, putting it in—I can do that to a girl, and like two different girls have let me do anal, I don’t need to be with a guy to get that.”

  


“That’s why guys are fun,” Eichi says with a firm nod. “Though—I’m kind of amused. I thought Sakuma-san was kind of a romantic type, or at least, that’s what Keito told me. I didn’t think he screwed around casually like that…” 

  


Kaoru flushes, but that could easily be the wine. Yeah, the wine. He can totally blame the—whoops,  _empty_  bottle of wine, when had he had so much? “He’s real sweet,” he mumbles, looking away. It’s not as casually as he intends to pass it off, but he can rationalize this later, so it’s fine.

  


“Heeeh. You like him. You like him a  _lot_.” Eichi nudges him in the side, leaning against him. “But you better put him on a leash or something. I think he and Wataru are fooling around.” 

  


Kaoru lets out a snort. “No way. Sakuma-san might be a vampire, but he’s not a cheater. Heh, he wouldn’t have the energy, you know?”

  


Hmm. While that confirms one thing, that muddles another, and makes Eichi slightly cross. Oh well, onto the good and interesting information for now. “Right, right. You’d know best.” He tips out the very last bit of the wine into his mouth before tossing the bottle aside. “Because you’re dating.” 

  


“I—I mean…”

  


Kaoru shrugs helplessly. “Not really? I mean, we don’t go on dates, you know? But we, uh…I don’t know, he doesn’t like loud noises really, except hands and stuff. And…but like…so yeah. I dunno. But we’re getting a place.”

  


“So you’re moving in together. Adventurous. Do your parents know? I mean, I guess you are the youngest child,” Eichi sighs. “I’m jealous.” 

  


“They totally know,” Kaoru says, though his voice is doubtful. “I mean…you know, that we’re moving in together. For the band. And to split the rent. Ha, ha, totally normal roommates, you know?”

  


“That’s a good cover, though! Wow, a really good one, you’re smart,” Eichi praises. “Do your parents know  _him_ , though? I can’t believe they’re just…letting you go off and join a band out of high school, even. Do you still have to have an omiai?” 

  


Kaoru waves a hand. “Nah, my siblings did it for me. Nee-san…she really took a bullet for me,” he says, suddenly wistful. “She kinda made the old man promise that if she had one, he’d let it be the last one in the family. She’s…she’s always taken really good care of me. So yeah, I get more freedom now. I mean, for right now. He said I’ve got three years to make a living on my own from the music, or I gotta join his company, ugh.”

  


“Awww, that’s so sweet. And lucky. You’re  _lucky_ ,” Eichi informs him, though he doesn’t sound jealous, mostly just wistful. And definitely tipsy. “Three years is a lot time to make it work, though.  _And_  you stole one of the best ones away for it, you’ll do fine. If Sakuma-san did gravure, I bet you guys would get signed. Make him put lingerie on.” 

  


Kaoru sticks out a finger, jabbing it at Eichi’s chest with accuracy that could be described as mild at best. “No…to two things. Number one…or  _first_ ,” he corrects himself, conscious of how drunk he sounds and deciding to fix it, “no on the lingerie thing for guys. I just realize how much, uh, is missing, when guys wear stuff like that. No good. And number two…” Shit, he’d said first, hadn’t he? So it should be second? Maybe Eichi won’t notice. “He stole  _me_.”

  


Eichi pauses, then reaches into his suit pocket for his phone. “I’m gonna show you something that will make you…rethink, lingerie. On guys. Because I get it. I want tits in pretty things, too,” he firmly says. “But the way Shu does things—sorry. He lets me call him Shu in private. He started it, he calls me Eichi.” He flips open a locked album on his phone, then opens up a particular set of photos to thrust it in Kaoru’s face. “ _See?_  The way he does it. Better. Make him make Sakuma-san something.” 

  


Kaoru looks, squints, then sighs. “I get what you’re saying,” he admits, staring at the phone. “I get it. I do. I dunno about on Sakuma-san, though? I’m not really into the whole girly guy thing, like I said…but damn. It looks good on Itsuki.”

  


“I didn’t think I’d like it either, but one time, he was just… _wearing this_ , underneath his clothes? And, uhh, that kinda set a precedent, I guess. The panties do it for me more than anything,” Eichi admits, flipping to another photo of a  _very_  nice angle on Shu’s ass, clad in red lace. “The point is, it looks good on him. Oh, I need to know. Does he ever let you top? Keito says he’s a huge bottom.” 

  


Kaoru snorts. “He’s offered to let me, but mostly I want him to…you know. Plus, he’s  _so_  good with his hands, so sometimes we just…damn, Itsuki is  _way_  more ripped than I thought, you know? He looks so fancy…”

  


“I knooow, he’s so strong,” Eichi groans, slumping into Kaoru’s side. “Hakaze-kuuuun, he could break me in half even though he’s so fancy. Why do I like guys like that, huh?” 

  


“It’s the gap,” Kaoru decides sympathetically, patting Eichi’s shoulder. “You know? Like when you see a huge busty chick but she’s got a squeaky little girl voice, mmm.”

  


“You’re  _right_. Ugh, you wanna know a secret? I’ve never actually gotten to put it in a girl.” Eichi sulks immediately upon remembering this. “I feel deprived, kinda. I’m rich, you know, I should be able to fuck  _every_  girl. But, I dunno…boys are just…” 

  


“You…what,  _never_?” Kaoru asks, mystified. “Shit. That  _sucks_ , we gotta get you laid properly. I mean, guys are great and all, but…girls, you know?”

  


“I mean…I’ve been  _with_  a girl. But never all the way, and I’m gonna die, so I should probably do it before then,” Eichi sighs, fluttering a hand. “Whatever. I can’t now. I’m like, exclusive or something. I  _think_ that extends to girls, but maybe not Keito.” 

  


“Wow, sucks to be Hasumi. Is his dick so small it doesn’t count? Not that I care about a guy’s…whatever, you don’t care if I say that, right?”

  


“I  _don’t_  care,” Eichi very seriously says, placing a hand on Kaoru’s thigh. “And no. He doesn’t count because…he’s Keito, I dunno. His dick isn’t that small. I just make fun of him because it turns him on more.” 

  


“Weird,” Kaoru says immediately. “That’s super weird, I wouldn’t like it at  _all_  if someone made fun of it. Ugh, I’d be really mad?” Even thinking about it makes him sulk, though it’s never actually happened in real life.

  


“Is it big?” Eichi asks, immediately, unabashedly curious. “Even if it isn’t, I won’t make fun of it. That’s just Keito. He’s weird and likes feet and bondage, too, and when I’m fucking people that aren’t him.” 

  


“I mean…” Kaoru reaches a hand down between his legs, cupping protectively as if Eichi’s on his way to do damage. “I think it’s all right? I’ve never had any complaints, you know? It’s not as, you know, Sakuma-san is a total wild card, he’s not  _normal_ , you can’t judge it by that, it’s good. It’s good.”

  


“I bet it’s good,” Eichi reassures him, prowling closer until he’s all but breathing into Kaoru’s neck. “Hey—do you know who’s dick is way  _too_  big? Like, it’s stupid. Tsumugi. Fuck that guy.”

  


“Ooh. Uh. That’s gonna be a hard pass from me,” Kaoru says skeptically. “Like, in every way. Not interested, he’s the one with the curly hair and glasses, right? Literally zero percent my type, no no.”

  


“He makes a good secretary, that’s it, but also, his dick is  _so_  big,” Eichi mutters, then huffs, moving on from that in favor of sliding a hand up Kaoru’s thigh. “Hey. We’re both drunk and this party sucks. We could make out.” 

  


“Hey…not that I’m the kind who usually turns down makeouts,” Kaoru says, eyes flicking down to Eichi’s lips, “but you  _just_  said you’re exclusive with Itsuki, right?”

  


“How did you know it was Shu?” Eichi demands, pouting. “I never  _said_  it was Shu.”

  


Kaoru blinks, trying to process that information when his mind feels so…loose. “Uh…didn’t you? I dunno, you just said you were exclusive, and you haven’t been talking about anyone else, so…”

  


“Oh. I thought you assumed because of the vibrator that one time. We were  _not_  subtle.” 

  


“Ha! Yeah.” Kaoru smiles fondly to himself. “I  _do_  sit next to him, and it’s not like, a sound that’s hard to recognize.”

  


“That was his idea, not mine. He’s a pervert. Waaay more of a pervert than me sometimes, heh. Anyway, I’m drunk,” Eichi reminds Kaoru, because he’s pretty sure Kaoru needs reminding. “I’m not responsible.  _And_  it’s just making out, and you’re pretty.” 

  


Kaoru still looks skeptical. “I don’t know. You’re a guy. Right?”

  


Eichi rolls his eyes. “You don’t have to touch my dick,” he patiently says, even as he puts a hand on Kaoru’s chest and goes straight for a nipple, thumbing it through his perfectly pressed dress shirt. “And I won’t remember this later. It’s idol school’s fault that we’re like this.” 

  


Kaoru’s mouth drops open, and a very unmanly noise squeaks its way out of his throat. “H-hey,” he says, breathless and whiny, grabbing Eichi’s shirt. “Did he tell you about that? That’s…not fair?”

  


“Sakuma-san doesn’t talk to me,” Eichi reminds him, and he immediately scoots closer, turning his head aside to kiss Kaoru’s neck as his thumb drags over that same nipple again. “Mmnn, but that’s a cuuute noise…do it again.” 

  


Kaoru drops that hand between his thighs again, panting, making little groaning noises, his other hand coming up to cover his mouth. He doesn’t move away from Eichi’s hand, though, even though he does flash back to a couple of nights ago—

  


_In Rei’s coffin, three fingers buried in his ass, Rei’s other hand playing with his chest as though_ he’s _the fiddle, that dark voice murmuring filthy sweet things in his ear—_

  


With a gasp, he pulls away, blood pounding in his ears. “Th-that was lots of fun, good talk, see you!” he stammers out, and dashes back into the house, suddenly willing to take his father’s friends talking about his future over some casual fun with a classmate.

  


Being in love is  _dumb_ , he decides.

  


Eichi growls in grumpy, moody frustration, and flops onto his back in the cold grass for a moment, staring up at the night sky that’s far too bright.  _Stupid city lights_ , he unhappily thinks. Maybe this is for the best. Kaoru running off means he didn’t do anything terribly stupid, which he already feels vaguely guilty for. 

  


So, logically—

  


**To: Itsuki-kun**

**Subject: hi**

**im at a STUPID party and i drank a whole bottle of wine with HAKAZE and i miss u even tho i saw you like a day ago**

  


**To: Itsuki-kun**

**Subject: ALSO**

**i know im fucking stupid but please dont hate me**

  


**To: Itsuki-kun**

**Subject: and**

**ill probably die from alcohol but like. remember me without hating me too much IM TRYING NOT TO BE BAD**

  


It’s a long few minutes until Shu responds.

  


**To: Tenshouin**

**Subject:**

**Please try to remember how much I dislike conflict and being teased in front of people who matter to me. You made me want to stay home from school for another month. Have fun.**

  


**To: Itsuki-kun**

**Subject: :(**

**i didn’t mean to?? i don’t even remember what we were talking about**

  


**To: Itsuki-kun**

**Subject: im sorry**

**seriously im sorry i thought i was just answering kagehira-kun and being funny?? please don’t stay home for another month you’re the best there’s no point if you aren’t there**

  


That’s probably  _too much_  of an admission, but he’s drunk, and kind of desperate.  _Shit._  

  


**To: Tenshouin**

**Subject: You’re stupid.**

**Very stupid. Incredibly stupid.**

  


**To: Tenshouin**

**Subject:**

**When I ask you to stop doing something I don’t care if you think you’re being funny. It’s important to me that you listen to me and respect the way I feel.**

  


**To: Tenshouin**

**Subject:**

**If you can’t handle that then this isn’t going to work. I asked you to stop and you didn’t. That’s what’s wrong. Not what you said.**

  


**To: Itsuki-kun**

**Subject:**

**ok. i’m stupid. i get it now and i’m sorry**

  


**To: Itsuki-kun**

**Subject:**

**really sorry. i didn’t know it was such a big deal but i get it now so i’m sorry again**

  


No one is  _ever_  allowed to know how whipped he is, probably. This is just embarrassing, how much panic twists through him just from Shu telling him off. Eichi groans and rolls over, shoving his face down into the grass. 

  


**To: Itsuki-kun**

**Subject:**

**i’ll dogeza next time i see you in person. even if its in public at school.**

  


“Oi. Emperor-san.” Kaoru’s voice is weary, his hands warm on Eichi’s shoulders. “Stop being a pervert and I’ll take care of you, you’re definitely too drunk.”

  


**To: Tenshouin**

**Subject:**

**Just don’t do it again. You should be able to tell when I’m close to a breakdown. Don’t you think?**

  


**To: Tenshouin**

**Subject:**

**I mean. You are my boyfriend.**

  


“I’m  _busy_ ,” Eichi petulantly says, batting Kaoru’s hands away uselessly as he huddles further into a ball. “You just…you wait there. You and your cute noises.” 

  


**To: Itsuki-kun**

**Subject: :( :( :(**

**i was HIGH i told you my sleep meds make me loopy if i take them too late!! i barely even remember the conversation**

  


**To: Itsuki-kun**

**Subject:**

**but im SORRY i won’t do it again just step on my toe or something next time if i start??? im really sorry. please train me. i swear im trainable.**

  


**To: Itsuki-kun**

**Subject: or actually**

**you can kill me. you’re right im a shit boyfriend.**

  


“If I stand up,” Eichi grumpily says, “I’m totally gonna puke. How are you standing? How did you even  _move?_ ” 

  


“I’m, like, better at alcohol than you are,” Kaoru says dryly, dropping into a low squat next to Eichi’s crumpled form. “You’re super bad at it. It looks like your phone killed your whole unit, by the way, from how you’re glaring at it. Whoops.” Now he’s sitting down, as the squat wasn’t  _quite_  as stable as he’d thought.

  


**To: Tenshouin**

**Subject:**

**Stop groveling, it means little when I can’t even see you to enjoy it. I just don’t want to see you today. I’m mad at you for ruining the cute romantic Romeo and Juliet thing we had going.**

  


**To: Tenshouin**

**Subject:**

**Having you at my house made me anxious and you didn’t care about that either. So we can meet at the hotel next time.**

  


**To: Itsuki-kun**

**Subject:**

**i WAS willing to leave. stop giving me mixed signals, you can’t tell me you thought it was cute and romantic and then its giving you anxiety!**

  


“I hate boys,” Eichi suddenly announces, huffing loudly. He slowly tries to sit up, then feels his entire world flip over, so he gives up, and flops right back down, turning a further shade of pale. “Don’t date. I know you’re dating Sakuma-san, but he’s…he’s like…” He flutters a weak hand. “Not…normal. In a good way.” 

  


**To: Itsuki-kun**

**Subject:**

**i wasnt even asking to come over, i was just trying to apologize. forget it.**

  


“Yeah, yeah.” Kaoru tries to stabilize Eichi, and winds up sitting next to him, heaving out a breath. “He’s good. Sakuma-san, I mean. But, like…you’ve got to  _know_  you’re dating a basket case, right? That can’t be a surprise, not after he brings that pretty doll everywhere.”

  


**To: Tenshouin**

**Subject: Wait!**

**Don’t stop talking to me. I finally felt like you understood and now I’m not sure.**

  


**To: Tenshouin**

**Subject: Just…**

**Just try to listen to me? I wanted you to come over I just thought we would go somewhere else to be…private.**

  


**To: Tenshouin**

**Subject:**

**If me being upset is really that much of a burden then don’t text me when I’m upset!!**

  


**To: Tenshouin**

**Subject: Wait**

**Your apology isn’t unappreciated. I don’t feel good today. I’m turning off my phone so I stop saying things I regret.**

  


**To: Itsuki-kun**

**Subject:**

**HOW IS MY HOTEL MORE PRIVATE THAN**

  


No. No, he’s not sending that. Eichi swiftly deletes it, gritting his teeth and trying not to tear up. “ _I’m_  fucking crazy,” he sniffles, throwing his phone down into the grass. “I thought it would cancel out or something, but it just makes it  _worse_. I don’t feel good, I’m just gonna die now. But I’m glad Sakuma-san is good. I mean, I don’t like him. But for you. You’re nice, you can have good things.” 

  


He reaches for his phone again, unable to help himself. 

  


**To: Keito**

**Subject:**

**shu makes me hate myself so much sometimes. im drunk btw please talk to me all i have is hakaze**

  


Deftly, Kaoru plucks the phone out of Eichi’s hand, stuffing it down into his pocket. “Drunk-dialing isn’t cute,” he says firmly. “You’re gonna regret it tomorrow for sure. We can play a game or something, isn’t that better than texting guys that suck?”

  


Eichi stares at him blearily, then holds up a hand, turns away, and promptly vomits up the contents of his stomach beneath the nearest bush. Fortunately, it isn’t much, though dry heaving is  _never_  fun. “I  _hate_  boys,” he insistently says, fishing out a tissue from his pocket to wipe his mouth. “And I’m not cute, no one tells me I’m cute so fuck it. Gimme my phone, Keito might text me.” 

  


Kaoru pats Eichi’s back, maybe a little too hard given his own state of inebriation. “A good friend wouldn’t. But I guess we’re not that close. Here.”

  


**To: Eichi**

**Subject: where**

**where are u i can come over**

  


**To: Tenshouin**

**Subject: Wait**

**You aren’t allowed to break up with me over this. This is the best thing that’s ever…**

  


**To: Keito**

**Subject: home**

**stupid party. u gotta come in the back way if you come. i don’t wanna talk about anything i just want to lie there and die**

  


“I’ll remember this part,” Eichi insists, pushing his hair back from his face and patting Kaoru’s hand. “If you…look. I like you. If you can’t get signed, talk to me. I’ll get you two signed. You’ll get to be a fancy rocker boy. Fuck your dad.” He sucks in a deep breath, and tries not to start vomiting again.

  


**To: Itsuki-kun**

**Subject:**

**I DIDNT SAY IM BREAKING UP WITH YOU youre the one that made it sound like that! god. im drunk and sick and done talking about this rn i was just trying to be cute and you make me hate myself SO MUCH sometimes**

  


Kaoru plucks the phone out of Eichi’s hand again. “You’re texting too much,” he warns, putting an arm around Eichi’s shoulders and tugging him close. “Trust me, tomorrow? You aren’t going to feel good about  _anything_  you say right now. Also, you’re kinda crying, you know?”

  


“I am  _not_  crying, my nose just runs when I puke,” Eichi sniffles again, wiping said nose on his sleeve even as he flops into Kaoru’s hold uselessly. “I don’t cry, I’m dying, there’s no p-point. Gimme my phone. I want Keito, he’s the only one that gets anything. But you’re nice, too, and you smell good.” 

  


Kaoru sighs. “Part of being a good friend is stopping you when you make bad choices, right? Promise me you won’t text Itsuki anymore and I’ll give it back.”

  


Eichi stares at him skeptically, but he eventually, unhappily nods. “He already thinks I’m shitty, anyway,” he moodily  says, holding out his hand. “Gimme. Please.” 

  


Kaoru shrugs, and passes it over. “It’s officially not my fault if you do something dumb, now.”

  


**To: Eichi**

**Subject: am**

**outside where are u i don see u**

  


**To: Tenshouin**

**Subject:**

**Stop it just stop it! I’m coming over so we can yell at each other and maybe have make up sex in person.**

  


“Fuck,” Eichi groans, burying his face in one hand for a moment. “Nope. No. I’m not doing this tonight. Thanks, but you don’t…have to stick around,” he adds on an afterthought, attempting to haul himself to his feet, then failing enough that he just sits back down, his head spinning. “Keito is here. Apparently. Somewhere. He’ll find me.” 

  


**To: Keito**

**Subject: garden**

**come find me i am Not getting up. hakaze-kun is also here.**

  


**To: Itsuki-kun**

**Subject: no**

**drunk and theres a party. im going to bed just forget about it**

  


“Eichi!”

  


Keito bursts into view a moment later, through a pair of bushes, panting and winded from what looks like a wild chase, hair in his face as he vaults a low stone wall. A few seconds later, a loudspeaker commands, “Stop, you are trespassing on Tenshouin lands, we are authorized to use deadly force!”

  


Hurried footsteps follow Keito before he dashes toward Eichi, pursued by two men wearing black suits, each carrying pistols. 

  


“It’s  _Keito_ , you imbeciles,” Eichi snarls, immediately grabbing Keito’s hands and yanking him down to plaster himself to him and make it impossible for them to get a good shot either way. They’ve played  _this_  game before, and it’s much more fun when he isn’t drunk and feeling terrible. “If you keep pointing a gun at  _me_ , you’ll be more than just fired.” 

  


And that’s the extent of his  _I’m-in-charge_ voice when he’s drunk and sick, because the second he starts clinging to Keito, good sense disappears and he  _actually_ bursts into tears. “I’m done, I wanna go to bed,” he mumbles, stuffing his face into Keito’s neck. “Take me upstairs, wine was a mistake,  _everything_  was a mistake.” 

 

The men with guns look hesitant for a moment, but eventually peel off, headed back to their patrols. Keito’s heart takes a lot longer to return to normal, thudding frantically against his ribs in a demanding tattoo as he pats Eichi’s back. “Come on, Hakaze,” he says, as if it’s totally normal to be chased by a couple of gunmen. “Help me get him up, he might be too thin but that’s still not easy to lift. Shh, you’re embarrassing yourself, let me just spoil you tonight.”

 

“Why are you the only one who spoils me anymore?” Eichi sniffles, throwing his arms around Keito’s shoulders to further cling to him, and make it almost impossible for him to easily stand. “You’re…you’re the only good one. Everyone else _s-sucks.”_ He rubs his face into Keito’s shoulder, as if that’ll make his eyes stop stinging. It doesn’t, which is bullshit. “ _You_ let me stay the night at your house without being weird about it.”

 

“If anything, I’m mad that you don’t spend the night more often,” Keito grunts, though most of Eichi’s weight is on Kaoru’s shoulders, if he’s being honest. Stairs are still hard no matter what, though he tries not to complain about them whenever the two muscleheads in his unit are around. “Hakaze, quit weaving, are you drunk too?”

 

“Heh, maybe a little…”

 

“Can’t you control yourself? This is a public function.”

 

“Blame hiiiim, he’s the one that brought the booze!”

 

“I did,” Eichi agrees with a little hiccup, stumbling and squeezing his eyes shut as his stomach flips over again. “Hakaze-kun…is a good boy, this…this is my fault. _Everything_ is.” At least with the party going on, the house staff is thoroughly preoccupied, and being dragged through actual living areas up to his bedroom is safer than it usually would be. “Keito—Keito, I really love you, you know? Sorry if I puke.” 

 

Keito shuts the door behind them, kicking it with one foot, and shoves Eichi gently towards the bed. “Yeah, yeah. I love you too. Confess your love now, so I can pretend it didn’t happen when you’re sober.”

 

Kaoru looks between them, then clicks his tongue sadly. “That’s rough, dude. He do this every time?”

 

“Often enough.”

 

“You’re not invited,” Eichi mutters to Kaoru, fluttering a dismissive hand towards him as he collapses down onto the foot of his bed, curling up into a useless ball. “Shoo, shoo. Keitooo…come cuddle me, I _really_ don’t feel good. You said you’d spoil me.”

 

“What, you want me back here?” Kaoru asks, stepping back a couple steps.

 

Keito sighs, and shakes his head. “Out, Hakaze. Go find a girl.”

 

“I do like girls.”

 

That gets rid of the problem neatly, and Keito sighs again, shucking off his coat and curling his body around the lump that is Eichi. “You’re so stupid,” he says, much more softly. “I’m going to give you one hell of a lecture. At some point.”

 

Eichi nods, twisting slowly, painstakingly around to stuff his face into Keito’s chest. His head won’t stop spinning, and he’s _totally_ going to puke again, but not yet. He can hold off. “I hate boys,” he mumbles, fisting his hands into Keito’s shirt. “But you’re not boys. Much better. _And_ you smell good.” His eyes tear up without warning. “Keito, I’m really dumb.”

 

“…Yeah,” Keito says quietly, petting Eichi’s hair. This is a familiar position, and he falls into it easily. Maybe this is how it always has to be. Maybe he’s just never going to be the person that makes Eichi cry, but always the one that wipes his tears after, canceling dates and probably job interviews and weddings and whatever else so he can run after Eichi, forever.

 

It’s probably bad that he doesn’t really mind.

 

“It’s never gonna…gonna work, is it.” Keito smells good, but not in the way that Shu does, which always riles him up and makes him _stupid_. Keito smells like incense and a _lot_ of green tea, and that’s calming, making his stomach flip less even as his breath hiccups erratically. “No matter how much I like him—or how much I want…want to make him happy, it’s no good, is it? It’s gonna get fucked up. Because I’m not…I’m not good at this. At people like that. He’ll always end up hating me.”

 

“He doesn’t hate you.” Why Keito is assuring Eichi of that, he has no idea. Maybe he really is a masochist. “Shh, it’s fine. I’ve got you for now, all right? Itsuki will get over this, you two will make up, and I won’t hold you to your promise, so everything’s fine.”

 

“But I don’t even know what I did _wrong_ ,” Eichi groans, rubbing his face into Keito’s chest. “I kept apologizing but I don’t…even get it, why is he so mean? H…he told me I made him want to stay home again for a month. Just because I wanted to stay the night at his house.”

 

“Want me to kill him?” Keito is only half-joking. “I already don’t think he deserves you, of course.”

 

“M-maybe.” Eichi sniffs, lying still for a moment before he slowly, painstakingly starts to sit up. “Gonna go puke again,” he mutters, and pulls his phone out of his pocket, tossing it down on the bed on his way up. “Look at my texts for me. He was yelling at me.”

 

Keito hesitates, but finally does as Eichi asks, even as he really wants to go hold Eichi’s hair for him. A moment later, he calls, “He’s being Itsuki. Threatening to turn random people into dolls, that kind of crazy shit.”

 

“He makes me so _tired_ ,” Eichi moans from where he lies on the shiny marble floor, head resting against the seat of his toilet. “Did you read back through and see how mean he was? Uugghh…Keito, I quit, he doesn’t love me, anyway. He loves _Sakuma._ ”

 

Keito blinks. “Rei? Really? Ugh, they’d deserve each other,” he says grumpily, and follows Eichi into the bathroom, grabbing a glass to fill it in the sink. “Get off the floor, you know it’s hell for me to lift you, and I almost got shot today. If you get up, I’ll help you to the bed.”

 

“No. I want a bath. I almost got shot, too. I was your shield.” Eichi reaches a shaky, pale hand up to flush the contents of his stomach down the drain. “He’s tooootally in love with Sakuma. You’ve heard the violin solos. That’s how you _know_ , even though it sounds like Wagner.”

 

“I don’t know anything about your German depression music,” Keito says with a sigh, reaching over to start the bath water—very hot, hotter than he likes it himself, hot enough to turn Eichi’s skin pink. “Why don’t they just get together, then? Save the rest of us some trouble.”

 

“Sakuma’s dating that…that Hakaze-kun thing, who is cute, but kind of…you know. Straight.” Eichi huffs, turning himself slowly around on the floor to lean back against the toilet. “Why does everyone wanna fuck him? I’m great, too, right?”

 

“Yeah, you’re fine,” Keito says automatically, mind stunned, reeling from the revelation. “ _Hakaze_? He’s not Rei’s type at _all_ , why the hell would he want to do that? Ugh, what a step down.”

 

“I don’t _know_ , apparently they’re going to move in together and everything,” Eichi glumly says, not even entirely sure why he’s upset at that one. He slowly, painstakingly picks himself up, attempting to loosen his tie, then gives up, leaning back against the sink and trying not to pass out when his head starts spinning. “ _I_ want a boyfriend that’ll let me move in with him,” he moodily says. “Even if I couldn’t…I want the _offer_ , you know? Shu’s parents don’t even live with him. I even just…could sleep over whenever. But he thinks that’s bad.”

 

“You can move in with me,” Keito offers, without thinking it’s even going to leave an impression. “And I’ve slept over lots of times. Sorry, I know, this isn’t about me.”

 

Eichi pauses, his mouth already open to utter another complaint about _Itsuki Shu_ , the puppetmaster who cursed his dick, before he just looks at Keito, stumbles over, and grabs both of his hands. “Get in the bath with me,” he firmly says. “I want to cuddle you. Naked.”

 

Keito looks down, and then, damn his stupid conscience, hesitates. “I’m totally willing for you to cheat on him with me,” he says bluntly. “But only when you’re sober. I…I’ll do a lot of things for you, Eichi. But I don’t want to be your drunken mistake.”

 

“I said cuddle. Even if it’s naked cuddling, it’s still cuddling.” Eichi huffs, clutching harder at Keito’s hands. “ _Besides_. Who said it was a mistake? If you stay ‘till the morning, I’ll be sober and we can talk about why it isn’t, then.”

 

Okay, hesitation gone.

 

Keito pats Eichi’s hands, then strips off his clothes, climbing gingerly into the tub, then helping Eichi in. “C’mon, let me hold you. Just don’t be surprised if it gets hard, it always does when it’s…you know. You.”

 

“Mine will, too—maybe. I’m pretty drunk,” Eichi points out with a breathy little laugh. He slithers into the tub, his usual attempts at grace and elegance thrown out the window as heflops in after Keito. It’s hot enough to be satisfactory for him, and he sighs, nestling up into Keito’s side, cheek pressed to his shoulder. “This is better.”

 

Keito lets out a breath, and relaxes down to rest his chin on Eichi’s head. He pets Eichi’s wet hair, making it wetter, and relaxes back against the startlingly comfortable side of the tub. “When you have your own house, and I live in the little shrine on the grounds,” he says seriously, “it can be all tatami mats and whatever, and I’ll sleep on the word’s thinnest futons until I creak like an old man at the age of thirty…but give me a tub shaped like this as my one luxury.”

 

“Done,” Eichi agrees, shutting his eyes. His arms wind their way around Keito’s waist, squeezing gently as he remains plastered to Keito’s side. The steam rising up from the water makes his skin flush pink, and it definitely makes him light-headed to be surrounded by this much warmth for so long, but that’s not a bad thing right now. “Mmn…but if you have shitty futons, I won’t come over. I wanna be comfy. So maybe just live here. Stay in my bed, you know it’s the best.”

 

“I never said it isn’t the best,” Keito points out. “Just that sometimes it’s occupied. I’m always going to be with you, you know. That’s the thing. Now that we’ve fought toe to toe and side by side, you can’t get rid of me. I can make my own destiny, and it’s by your side.”

 

Eichi’s eyes sting again, and he stuffs his face into Keito’s neck. “Stop it,” he mumbles. “You’re gonna make me say things that are really embarrassing if you keep saying cool things.”

 

“I’m not really being that cool,” Keito says, stroking a hand down Eichi’s back. “You’re just drunk.”

 

“Is that why you petting me feels like the best thing _ever?_ ” Eichi groans, not lifting his face. “Or is that just you being great.”

 

“It’s probably us being codependent,” Keito says with a sigh, but he doesn’t stop petting. “Not that I’m, like, begging? But if it’s the only thing keeping me from making you happy, you can top. Just throwing that out there.”

 

“I don’t care that much,” comes Eichi’s muffled reply into Keito’s skin. “I like bottoming, too. I just want you to push me around sometimes if you’re gonna top. Kick my ass, like you always said you would.”

 

“It’s…hard to enjoy when I know I could really hurt you,” Keito says softly. “And how bad it would be if you went into the hospital because of me.”

 

“You don’t have to try and _kill_ me,” Eichi grouses, flexing his fingers against Keito’s hip. “I just want you to tie me up and maybe slap me around a little. You know, use my feet to jack you off whether I want you to or not. Fun stuff.”

 

“I know, I know. I just…” Keito waffles on actually saying something, but hell, Eichi is drunk, and he’s always had a problem with putting it in words. “You put so much pressure on me. How I act, how big my dick is, my body…it’s like you want me to be someone else whenever we try to do it, it makes me…you know. Really anxious.”

 

“Noooo.” Eichi growls and bites down onto the curve of Keito’s shoulder before he can stop himself. Whatever. The point’s getting across better that way. “You’re good,” he mumbles, huddling closer. “But you piss me off. And fluster me. And it’s easier if I tell you that you suck and stuff. Then I don’t have to think about how I’m turned on by a hot nerd.”

 

“But you’re not, you know,” Keito says, trying not to be irritated when Eichi is so….irritating. “You’re turned on by really fancy guys that don’t like you very much. And, I don’t know, first years. I’m not exactly your type. And that’s fine, I guess, just don’t keep telling me you are.”

 

“Shut up.” Eichi lifts his head and grabs Keito’s face in his hands. The grab is a little sloppy, pushing Keito’s glasses slightly askew as his fingers press into Keito’s cheeks, and he huffs, glowering up at him. “Stop it. So you aren’t my type. I’m not yours. You like…you like tall, dark, handsome guys, that are really nice to kids, and want to take care of people, and like bottoming. And second years that are really fresh-faced, I guess.” He swallows, shrugging. “Doesn’t mean I don’t want you to think I’m cute, or sexy, or…whatever. And none of that means…that I don’t think you’re _so_ good. Fancy guys that don’t like me…are fun, but…Shu’s not gonna take a bath with me when I’m drunk and been throwing up all night. Also, don’t tell me who and what I’m turned on by. Nothing makes me harder than seeing you in an archery uniform, fuck you.”

 

A startled flush rises in Keito’s cheeks, and he leans in, resting his forehead against Eichi’s. “You’re the worst,” he says softly. “I just…ahh, I don’t know. Don’t you kind of feel like we’re just…avoiding each other? Like if we finally give in, that’s it, we can’t ever play around with anyone else again?”

 

Eichi groans at that, shutting his eyes and letting his hands flop down over Keito’s shoulders instead. “Don’t say it, then it’s cursed,” he mutters. “And _then_ we’re gonna get stupid.”

 

Keito closes his eyes, and rests his head back against the tub wall. “Fine. Then we can’t ever do it because you won’t bottom and I won’t throw you into things.”

 

“…Noo, I lied, I wanna go back to being stupid. You embarrass me when you’re super romantic and weird but I like it. I can say that right now, I’m still tipsy.”

 

“Eichi…”

 

Keito takes Eichi’s head in his hands, pulling his face close and kissing him suddenly hard, slipping his tongue between Eichi’s lips. “Fine. I’m in love with you and I’m literally waiting until you someday return the feelings so we can move in together and live happily ever after.”

 

Eichi blinks back at him slowly, dazed and flushed, before he launches himself forward into Keito’s chest, flinging his arms around Keito’s neck. “See? Embarrassing,” he mumbles, his face hot as he rubs it into Keito’s shoulder. “You could even move in without anyone _thinking_ about it. My own personal Buddhist priest. Keitooo…you know I love you, I just suck, I’m _sorry_ …”

 

“I suck just as much,” Keito groans, wrapping his arms around Eichi’s waist, tugging him close. “Can’t just man up and give you what you want, because I’m a goddamn coward when it comes to a lot of things. Shh, we’ll figure it out eventually.”

 

“And I’m selfish and needy and _really_ want you to be on call all the time,” Eichi mumbles. “I bet I interrupted a date or something, huh. Sorry. Nnhh, I think the water’s getting cold, and I dunno what time it is, but I _think_ it’s time to lie in bed and skip class tomorrow.”

 

“It’s definitely lie in bed o’clock,” Keito agrees, standing and grabbing a towel, holding it out to Eichi, grabbing another for himself. “Ugh, I’m going to need another bath in the morning for sure. Can you get up, or do I need to call a servant? Sorry, I don’t think I can lift you out of a bathtub when we’re both all slippery.”

 

Eichi’s brow furrows in determination, and he grabs hold of the tub’s edge, slowly, _carefully_ dragging himself up to his feet and out of the water. “Cold,” he grumbles, his teeth chattering unnecessarily as he tugs the towel around himself. “I don’t think…I should take my meds right now. Those and wine, that’s bad. Maybe in the morning? Nnnn, whatever, bed is the important thing…”

 

“Don’t bother with the ones that regulate your temperature,” Keito decides, bundling Eichi towards the bed, then following him into it. “I’ll be your electric warmer tonight. I need a dakimakura anyway.”

 

“You can always borrow mine if _I’m_ not good enough,” Eichi says, slithering his way into bed, but not before tugging free the body pillow in question from the pile of other pillows at the headboard. “Looook, it’s you.”

 

Keito takes a look, then winces. “Ugh, I could do so much better now, what was that, three years ago? Then again, I haven’t been practicing…I still don’t know how you bribed me to draw that.”

 

“I think it’s still good,” Eichi petulantly says, tucking the body pillow underneath the blankets on one side. “And I’ll tell you how. I offered to pose so you could draw one of _me_. I’m brilliant, you see. Lie down on the other side, then I’m sandwiched.”

 

“It definitely wasn’t a fair trade,” Keito grumbles, lying down as he’s instructed, tugging Eichi close to his body. “It took me forever to draw that one of me, and I’m too embarrassed to get the one of you printed, so it was a very bad trade. And if I remember correctly, you cheated. You touched my thigh when you asked.”

 

“Yeah,” Eichi cheerfully confirms, flinging his arms around the dakimakura as he nestles back against Keito, delightfully, comfortably sandwiched. He still can’t quite stop shaking, but that’s inevitable when he’s had too much to drink. “You should give me the one of me and I’ll get it printed for you. If you’re worried about what your family will say, just keep it here. Ahh…you’re toasty, that’s nice…”

 

“Your family would probably just look the other way at you having a dakimakura of yourself,” Keito says dryly. “My brother thought I was a sex freak because he saw I had one of your bromides.”

 

“Your brother’s a boring old loser and he’s not even hot,” Eichi says with a huff, huddling back against Keito. “If he saw your sketchbooks, _then_ he could think you’re a sex freak.”

 

“Obviously. Well, I put them away, anyway. They’re secure now.” Keito gives Eichi’s shoulder a little bite. “Away from nosy people who like to steal things instead of cleaning.”

 

“You should just store them here,” Eichi cheerfully suggests, deliberately stretching out his legs to let his feet brush back against Keito’s. “I’ll protect them. And everyone here already thinks I’m a sex freak.”

 

“No offense, but you’re literally the person I trust least with my sketchbooks.”

 

“Ehhh, what’s that supposed to mean? I cherish them more than you, even!”

 

“Last time I left you alone with one, you had the whole tea club act it out in an _improv_! And I hate improv!”

 

“That’s only because I loved it so much! You should be flattered. I just don’t want them to get thrown away or forgotten or something,” Eichi huffs, grabbing at one of Keito’s hands. “These things here are really good for something, you know? Don’t forget it.”

 

Keito opens his mouth, then closes it again. Then he inhales, and murmurs, “They are. For holding your hair when you’re sick, I think. Go to sleep, you idiot. I’ll be here when you wake up.”

 

Eichi exhales a low, grumbling sound, and burrows further down into the blankets. “You’re not my doctor, you’re Keito,” he mumbles, flopping his head down into a pillow. At least when he’s still drunk, sleeping is a much easier task. He drags the hand in his grasp up to his mouth, planting a kiss to the back of it before hugging it to his chest, and doing as he’s told.

 


	14. Chapter 14

 

When Eichi wakes up, it’s to a throbbing head, and a resounding desire to _never_ get up again.

 

The more he lies there and shivers, the more he is actually remembers from the previous night— _unfortunately_. It’s fuzzy around the edges, but no less embarrassing on several levels, and certainly no less stressful. The idea of checking his phone to see if he has any messages chastising him thoroughly is _not_ happening right now, but what should be happening is—“Keito?” he hoarsely calls, slowly pushing himself up onto an elbow before he flops right back down, and stuffs his face down into his dakimakura with a groan. “Keeitoooo…come put an arrow through me, it’s finally time to diiiie…” 

 

There’s a startled shuffling noise, then the sound of a bag being zipped. A moment later, warm arms twist around Eichi, and Keito pulls him close. “Close enough?” he asks, voice low with sleep. “I’ll shoot you later, go back to sleep. I have your meds with me if you want them.”

 

“Nothing that’s gonna make me sleepy,” Eichi mumbles, releasing his dakimakura to twist in Keito’s arms and get his own around the real thing. “I’m up. My head hurts. And my heart is going too fast, but that might be because you smell good.”

 

“Your heart is always going too fast,” Keito reminds him, pressing an absentminded kiss to Eichi’s cheek. “You’ve been diagnosed for that. I checked your heart rate five minutes ago, you’re fine.”

 

“Then it’s all your fault.” Eichi buries his face down into Keito’s shoulder, inhaling deeply. “On a scale of one to ten…how stupid was I last night?”

 

Keito hesitates. Then he huffs out a breath, stuffing his face into Eichi’s hair. “Incredibly stupid. You should be embarrassed. I’ll lecture you more later.”

 

“Keito…” Eichi slowly gnaws on his lower lip, words sticking to his tongue. If he was a better person, he’d drop it. He should text Shu, and meet up with him, but being so _thoroughly_ scolded by him still makes him chafe with every single rerun of the conversation in his head. “I…said we’d talk, if you were here in the morning. If you don’t want to, that’s fine? But I’m offering, so…”

 

A lump settles in Keito’s throat, and he tries to swallow it down, with limited success. He looks away, voice rough when he offers, “If you want to. We can. Look, don’t think I’m going to hold you to anything you said when you were drunk, you know me better than that. That’s not the deathless romance I want, and I won’t settle for anything less.”

 

“I was drunk, but we all know that means I’m more prone to honesty,” Eichi wryly says, and he fiddles with the edge of a pillowcase, his eyes lidding. “Why are you the only one that gets it?” he finally asks. “And by ‘it’ I mean…everything? It feels like I have to walk on my tiptoes around anyone else. Even Wataru—if I slip up and act like anything but a perfect emperor, he acts like it’s the end of the world and I just…want to lie in bed naked and cuddle stupid body pillows in my spare time, you know?” He swallows hard. “But—the worst thing I can think of, even worse than dying…that would be dragging you down because I’m too dependent on you. You’ve got your own life, too. Or you did, before…everything.”

 

“Don’t be like that,” Keito grumbles, pushing his hair back from his face. “I told you last summer, didn’t I? I have my own life, I have my own dreams. I’ve grown up and moved on from the kind of pathetic following you around I used to do, haven’t you? And…”

 

Finally he sighs, then moves to the side, reaching into his bag and pulling out a sketch book. “Being around you lately…makes me want to draw again. Don’t laugh, it’s embarrassing, but…I love this new you.”

 

Eichi pushes himself up onto an elbow, huffing out a breath. “I’m not going to laugh,” he murmurs, plopping his chin down into one hand. “Am I really that different? I feel like I’m still a shitty brat that can’t get anything done most of the time. But if it makes you want to draw again…good. You know, I always wanted to marry _someone_ that went off and got a fine arts degree.”

 

“Are you asking me to marry you, Eichi?”

 

“Only if you’re going to say ‘yes.’ I really hate being rejected.”

 

Keito glares, then shakes his head, heart thudding so hard it rivals Eichi’s as he shifts out of the bed, kneeling next to it, holding out his hand. “I’ll do it right now,” he warns, sure that Eichi can hear his voice quaver with every thump of his heart. “But…I mean it, you know. Look me in the eyes, you know I do.”

 

Eichi’s mouth falls open, and he fumbles for a response for a moment, his cheeks flushing in spite of how he desperately wishes he had more composure in a moment like this. “You—you’re really the worst, you know?” he manages, swallowing as he has to look aside, too flustered not to when he reaches out to take Keito’s hand without thinking. “I can’t decide if our families would hate this or love this.”

 

“I don’t care what they think,” Keito says suddenly, recklessly, squeezing Eichi’s hand. He feels his eyes burning, whether with intensity or unshed tears he can’t tell. “Fuck them all. Marry me.”

 

“Yes. Okay.” The logic side of his brain tries to briefly remind him that not only is he already engaged to a sickly little rich girl, but he _is_ dating someone else, and, perhaps, most importantly—“You’re going to be a widower before you’re thirty,” Eichi reminds him with a wet laugh, burying his face down into his other hand so he doesn’t have to look at Keito. “Enough, I don’t want to cr~y, I hate you.”

 

Keito’s heart lurches uncertainly, and he climbs up onto the bed, taking both of Eichi’s hands in his own. “It’s—I can’t tell if you mean it,” he complains. “Like, do you want to run away together?”

 

“U-um—“ Eichi blinks up at him nervously, but he doesn’t pull his hands away. “I mean—if someone told me I wasn’t allowed to be with you and they could actually influence my life, yes? But I want…ugh. Listen. I _do_ like my life, aside from the sick and dying parts. I like being rich, and I want to be at the top of the entertainment industry. Do we _have_ to run away? I’d rather just destroy everyone who opposed the idea of me kissing you.”

 

Keito’s chest warms, and he nods, scooting closer, petting Eichi’s hair. “All right. Good. I wanted to know. Whenever you feel bad about your life, you ask me to run away, and that’s not…real.”

 

“Oh. Yeah,” Eichi sheepishly agrees, slumping forward to lean into Keito’s chest. “I do that, I do. Keito…” He exhales a slow breath, shutting his eyes. “You know I’d be like…the _worst_ husband, right? I’m not good at just being with one person. I think this is pretty indicative of that, actually.”

 

“That’s not exactly a nice thing to say to the person who just proposed to you, you know. What if I decide to hold you to that, huh?”

 

“Ehhh…but I have to marry a girl at least, you know! I mean, I’ll try to make polygamy a legal thing? Then I can marry both of you? But you have to put up with that, at least, and take care of my kid.”

 

Keito waves a hand. “I don’t care about things like that,” he says bluntly. “I just want to live in my little shrine on your property and be your priest that you love very much. You can fuck whoever you want, too, I don’t care about things like that, you know. Just…”

 

He breathes in deep, and folds his arms over his chest. “Don’t say yes before you’re ready. I won’t share once you’re committed. Not sex, but—you can’t love anyone else. I have my pride as a man.”

 

“…Then you have to agree to the same thing.” Eichi leans back, frowning at him. “And don’t say ‘I only love you’, because you’re a liar. Why do you think nothing pisses me off like Sakuma Rei? God, that’s _two_ of you now!” he suddenly huffs, throwing himself back down onto his back. “Grooooss.”

 

Keito rolls his eyes. “Shut up, he’s always going to have been my first love, that doesn’t mean I want to wind up with him. He’s made his choices, and I’m the one who betrayed him—for you, so I made my choice a long time ago. You’ll have to make some, too.”

 

Eichi growls, low and grumpy. He mulls over a few, choice things to say before finally, carefully settling upon: “I think I’m too…I don’t know. Messed up? Fucked up? To really love people correctly. You’re an exception, because you just…translate it. But for Shu, or Wataru, or…anyone else. Even if I love them, it’s never…I never feel like I can make them happy.” He shrugs, staring up at the ceiling. “I think I made Shu hate me again, anyway. Did you know my family stole sooo much money from his family? I had no idea.”

 

Keito flops down, nuzzling into Eichi’s side. “I can’t imagine caring about something like that,” he says finally, “which probably makes me just as bad as you. So…” He licks his lips, then asks softly, “Did this conversation…change anything, at all?”

 

“…Yeah.” Eichi hesitates, glancing down, and his fingers slide their way over to tangle around Keito’s. “I’m going to have to talk to Shu about…I dunno. This. I just…I’m _going_ to die young. I’d rather spend my time with someone who isn’t going to freak out over every little thing. Like, the sex is _so_ good, but every single time I try to do an actual boyfriend thing, it feels like I’m falling short, somehow? I don’t like feeling inferior, and I _really_ don’t like hating myself more than I usually do, heh.”

 

“Go back to having random sex with him,” Keito advises. “I think that’s all you actually like about each other. Anything else, and you’re just ignoring everything you genuinely hate about each other, seriously. If I thought you were happy with him, I’d back off, but…”

 

“I _really_ like him,” Eichi wearily admits. “But…I don’t think…okay. This is going to sound lame, but you’re a loser romantic, so maybe you’ll get it. I don’t think we really…speak the same language, you know?”

 

“The language of love is nothing to take lightly,” Keito says with a shrug. “Just like you know my lectures are meant to help you and make you better. If you thought they were to make you sad, you’d hate that, wouldn’t you? And so would I.”

 

“Mm. Yeah. See, when he lectures me, it makes me feel like a dumbass, and like I ruined the whole world.” Eichi sighs, shrugging. “The worst thing is I don’t think he’ll just have random sex with me. I mean, he’d be missing out so much, but…”

 

“But you lived without it before,” Keito says quietly. “You can again. And so can he. It’s not going to kill either of you to break up. Maybe he’ll finally sack up and go after Sakuma.”

 

“If I break up with him, you are going to be dealing with the full brunt of my sexual frustration all at once. I hope you’re prepared for that.”

 

“I—oh. Well. I don’t…mind.” Keito raises an eyebrow, and drags a finger down Eichi’s chest. “Start whenever you like, I’ll do my best to endure.”

 

“You say that, but…” Eichi rolls, throwing a leg over Keito’s hips to stare down at him intently. “Last night—you said it was fine if I topped.”

 

“I—“

 

Keito flushes hotly, and looks away. “If we’re…together. Then it’s fine. But not as a hookup.”

 

“Ahhh. I see how it is.” Eichi leans back, vaguely amused. “But it’s fine if _I’m_ the one on my back then, huh? Hey, I’m curious. Did you ever let Sakuma-san put it in, or would I be the first one?”

 

“…if I tell you something, you have to not laugh at me.”

 

“Mmm. I’ll try. Tell me, tell me.”

 

“I was…saving it. For you. Go on, laugh at me.”

 

Eichi blinks a few times, then, unable to help himself, lurches up, grabbing at Keito’s hair as he kisses him, long and deep enough that it makes his breath get caught up in his lungs. “Why would I laugh at that?” he murmurs. “That’s hot.”

 

Keito’s breath catches hard, and he looks down dazedly, eyes spinning a bit as he plants his hands to either side of Eichi’s head.

 

Then he loses control, climbing on top of Eichi properly, kissing him deep, straddling his hips and thrusting down hard. “Don’t make me wait any longer,” he grunts, hands pushing at Eichi’s chest, thumbs raking over his nipples.

 

“S…seriously?” Eichi half-gasps, half-laughs, his eyes fluttering wildly for a moment as he tries to catch his breath, tries to make his _mind_ catch up when he grabs at Keito’s hair to pull him down into another kiss. _This_ they’ve done a million times, it’s nothing new, but… “Just like that? Nnhh, Keito…”

 

Keito pauses, and reason starts to reassert itself. Doubt creeps in, and he frowns, pulling back slightly, hands suddenly hesitant. “I—I mean, if you don’t really want to, you…we don’t have to…”

 

“Stooop, you make me want to eat you,” Eichi growls, lurching up to snap his teeth against Keito’s neck. His hands drag down Keito’s back before settling against his hips, squeezing gently. “I want to,” he quietly says. “So, _so_ badly. But—you were the one who just said it couldn’t be a hookup. I should talk to Shu first…or at least try to, and break it off…properly, I guess. Also—after last night, I dunno how good I’ll be at it, heh. Give me a recovery day?”

 

Keito’s blood pulses in his ears, and he nods, just once, before rolling off of Eichi, flopping down flat on his back. “You’d better talk to him today,” he groans. “Or I’m going to die.”

 

“You want a blowjob?” Eichi lightly suggests, his eyes sliding south. “Wow. For someone who ‘doesn’t like bottoming’, that sure did get you hard.”

 

“No, no, I want to wait,” Keito says, grumbling. He recites a Buddhist prayer, then recites it again when that doesn’t calm things down as well as he wants. “I’m going to go, though. If I’m going to be at your beck and call tomorrow, I have a lot to do today.”

 

“That’s fair…if you stick around, I won’t be able to behave myself.” Eichi rolls to the side, smushing his face down into a pillow. “Get out before I grab you and do you. I’m not going to class today, but I’ll make it to practice, probably—can you let Yuzuru know when you see him?”

 

“I have archery today, so…all right.” Keito gets up, and tugs his clothes on properly, tucking in each little fold and button. Then, on a whim, he pulls a page out of his sketchbook, and tosses it down to the bed. “Keep yourself company until we talk again. See you later.”

 

Of all the things, it’s a drawing of him sleeping, where he looks as soft as only someone like Hasumi Keito would ever think he was. “…Yeah. Later,” Eichi quietly says, resisting the urge to touch and smudge the lines of pencil, and instead, sets it carefully down onto his nightstand. Maybe, after a long, hot shower, he’ll have enough sense about him to try and talk to Shu.

 

Shu—who doesn’t make it to class for the second day in a row.

 

It’s Rei who catches wind of this, and who immediately has such a bad feeling that it forces him up and out of his coffin in the middle of the day. If Shu isn’t at school by now, he’s not going to be. Finding out that Eichi, too, is missing—that’s distressing. Phones are useless, and so there’s only one thing to do. In the middle of the day, in spite of the annoying sun and sharp breeze, Rei finds himself outside of Shu’s home, lowering his parasol to knock upon the door.

 

No response. Rei frowns, hesitates, and then turns the doorknob, finding that the door is unlocked. That’s unlike Shu, but not impossibly unusual, and so he tentatively lets himself inside, trying not to heave a sigh of relief when the terrible sun is blocked out. “Shu?” he calls out, toeing off his shoes at the door and propping up his parasol. “It’s Rei. Your house is always so wonderfully shrouded in darkness as usual, thank goodness…”

 

After a long moment, the attic door opens, and Shu appears silhouetted, wearing a long nightshirt, face looking gaunt and haunted. “Rei?” he asks, voice a croak rather than his usual deep melodic tone. “What are you…is something wrong? Is it Kagehira?”

 

“No, Kagehira-kun is fine,” Rei reassures him, though he pauses for a moment, looking Shu up and down. “I’m here to check on you. I’m glad that you came to greet me, at the very least, but…are you all right?”

 

Shu waves a hand, and seems to hunch in on himself. “I—I’m fine. It’s all fine.” He looks away, and down at his shoes. “I don’t want to hear it, so it’s fine.”

 

“I’m not here to chastise you,” Rei gently tells him, stepping closer and holding out his hand. “Shu. You know I _am_ on your side. If nothing else, I’ve heard I make a decent sounding board…if you wish to vent about your various worries.”

 

Shu shifts, as if to reach out, and then stops himself, reaching for Mademoiselle instead. “Shu-kun is awfully happy you came, Rei-kun,” the soft, high voice says. “You’re the only one he wouldn’t chase away, you know.”

 

“And for that, I’m very grateful,” Rei says, taking a step back, and situating himself to take a seat at the old, weathered piano bench in Shu’s living room. He pats to the spot next to him, hoping Shu will take the opportunity to sit next to him. “I’d rather not see him held back a year like this old, pathetic man because he’s missed too much class, however…if there’s something I can do to help Shu come back to school, please, let me know.”

 

Shu wavers, but after a moment, sits on the bench, settling Mademoiselle on the top of the piano before settling his hands on the keys. “Shu-kun is happy just to have you close by,” she says, Shu’s face bent over the keys. “But he’s aaaaawfully shy about being told ‘I told you so,’ you know. Even when Eichi-kun is such a mean grump.” Slowly, Shu starts to play, a Brahams tune from a half-remembered lesson.

 

“Fortunately,” Rei quietly says, setting his hands in his lap, watching Shu play, “I’m not here to say ‘I told you so.’ I’m here to…make sure that you’re all right. That’s all.” He lifts a hand, setting it against Shu’s back. “You’re far too pale. Tell me you’ve eaten _something_ , at least? If not, I’ll venture back out into the sun to feed you.”

 

Shu breathes, fingers moving more surely at the touch, as if the tiny amount of warmth from Rei’s hand could really be enough to soothe his entire body. He relaxes slightly, accelerating the tempo, adding a plaintive note to the top of the melodic line, a faint, tinkling sweetness that compliments the bass instead of taking away from it. “Is it wrong,” he asks, finally in his own voice, “to seek happiness? Every time…I’ve sought art, I’ve been happy. But every time I try to find happiness…everything is ruined.”

 

“It’s a difficult balance, isn’t it.” Rei heaves a sigh, stroking Shu’s back, absent and soothing. “Not for nothing…men are very troublesome, aren’t we? The fairer sex is called that for a reason, but unfortunately, in matters of romance…”

 

“Shu-kun thinks Rei-kun is the fairest one of all.”

 

Shu’s ears flush pink at the tips, and he bends over the piano. “Hush, Mademoiselle. You’re embarrassing me.”

 

“Ah, does he?” Rei lightly says, his lips twitching into a wry smile. “Well, thank you, I suppose? Though I have many drawbacks to my existence. Shu—you don’t have to tell me what he did, but can you tell me to which level I should punish him? Another curse, or outright exile?”

 

“Don’t bother. The problem is me.” Shu is utterly convinced about that now, the more he looks over his text messages from the last few days. “I’m insane, you know.”

 

“…I don’t think that’s true,” Rei gently says, stilling his hand against Shu’s lower back. “If we’re going to make that sort of argument, then surely Tenshouin is far more…unwell.”

 

“If you want to read my text messages, I can certainly change your mind,” Shu says flatly. “If we dated, you’d break up with me in a week.”

 

“Somehow, I doubt that.” Rei sighs, and gives into the urge to set his fingers to the keys, effortlessly plucking out a countermelody. “You don’t have to explain it to me further,” he says. “But I will be dragging you to school like a complete ruffian if that’s the case. I won’t see you wasting away here because of that demon.”

 

Shu purses his lips, and drops his hands down, heading to a deeper melody to offset Rei’s descant. “Do you know what horrible crime he committed?” he asks quietly, his stomach churning with the thought. “That made me so upset I couldn’t leave the house for two days? He came over to apologize to me, and stayed over. And bantered with Kagehira over breakfast. Truly, horrible.”

 

Rei’s hands don’t pause, but he does take a moment to mull that over. “That does sound like something that would bother you,” he settles upon, shrugging his shoulders. “Does it matter that it sounds so normal if it upset you? If it upsets you, it upsets you. Noisy things that are perfectly normal to other people bother me; even if it’s normal, that doesn’t mean I want it to stop any less.”

 

Shu’s hands start to tremble at the sudden permission, the ability to be insane, and he huffs out a sigh. “Thank you for that, Rei. You always make me feel less…intrusive in my existence.”

 

“Shu-kun thinks you smell good, too.”

 

Rei laughs at that, even as the compliment brings a little flush to his cheeks. He ducks his head, letting his hair fall forward into his face to obscure that. “Yes, well. I don’t think you’re intrusive at all. Also, not for nothing—Tenshouin is quite a _lot_ , isn’t he? Somehow, as much as…well, you know I love Wataru, but…”

 

Shu snorts. “I know what you mean. Ah, that was the instigation of our fight, by the way. Wataru is with someone—I know who it is, it’s obvious—but Eichi decided to throw a fit over it, because deep down he thinks everyone belongs to him, ugh. Why couldn’t he have a good heart underneath all of that posturing? Like—like—“

 

_Like you._

 

Rei’s eyebrows creep upwards, and his fingers slide off of the keys. “You know who it is?” he asks, trying to sound casual. “And, well. Tenshouin does have a bad personality. That’s sort of his modus operandi, no matter how he attempts to be pleasant.”

 

“There are…considerations,” Shu says, because that’s easier than admitting that the sex is really, really good. “And yes, obviously I know who it is. I used to do his nails, I know the marks they leave.”

 

“Ah. Well. Then I suppose it goes without saying that you can never, ever let that knowledge get back to Tenshouin.”

 

“I nearly broke up with him over his reaction,” Shu says wearily. “I’m not about to tell him. If one of us can escape unscathed by him when it’s in my power…”

 

He trails off, heartsick. “I hate this. I’m so disappointed in myself, Rei. I never thought I was the kind of person whose head would be turned by things so…base.”

 

“In times like these, perhaps it’s best to…think of the pros and cons of remaining with him,” Rei carefully says. “For your own sanity. If he’s bothering you now, then…think of what that will turn into if you continue on this path. Please don’t think I’m trying to push you to break up with him; my own bias aside, I _do_ want you happy, but this…” He flutters a long-fingered hand. “This isn’t you being happy. And if I may be frank: good sex is _not_ worth it.”

 

“Spoken like someone who can get it whenever he wants,” Shu snaps, unable to bite it down. “Sorry. Sorry, that was vulgar, please forget I said anything so embarrassing.”

 

“…If I might make a suggestion? Perhaps just have a casual, only sexual relationship with him, if that’s what you like about him?”

 

Shu looks over at Rei, misery in every part of his expression. “I don’t know if I’m the sort of person that can do that without caring, Rei. I feel very…vulnerable.”

 

“Then…” Ah, seeing Shu’s face look like that _does_ things to him. Rei hesitates for a moment, then reaches out, gently cupping Shu’s face in his hand. “Perhaps it would be best to distance yourself from him for awhile, then,” he suggests instead. “Shu—you owe him _nothing_. If he’s upset you, if he’s troubling you, no matter how small an issue others try to tell you it is…it’s still _upsetting_ to you. Tell him you need some space. Chances are, he probably already knows. That’s not a failing on your part.”

 

Shu nods sadly, reaching up and grasping Rei’s hand with his own. “Your hands feel warm,” he says quietly. “They’re usually so cold. Ah, I’m very bad at this kind of thing, I should just stay by myself, you’re right.”

 

“That’s not what I’m saying at all, you silly creature,” Rei sighs, patting Shu’s cheek. “Tenshouin Eichi is a _force_. Why do you think I was so concerned about you being involved with him? He never plays gently or kindly. It isn’t your fault. You need someone with a far softer touch, Shu.”

 

Shu’s heart aches, but he stuffs that down, closing his eyes. “I’ll keep that in mind, thank you. Perhaps later in life. When my art is in a more…stable and refined place, yes.”

 

Rei leans forward, pressing his lips to Shu’s forehead before he can stop himself. Shu is really too cold to the touch, a trembly, unhappy mess, and it takes _effort_ not to scoop him up and carry him back to bed immediately. “You worry me so much,” he quietly says. “If there’s anything I can do…you can ask it of me, you know.” 

 

Shu takes in a deep breath, then nods helplessly. “If you make me food…I will try to eat it,” he finally says, feeling rather embarrassed. “But only if it’s no trouble. You have…someone to get back to, don’t you?” Because if he keeps reminding himself of that, then he won’t find himself wanting things he can’t have.

 

“At the risk of sounding cold…he can take care of himself. And probably has a girl on his arm right now, anyway.” Rei releases Shu’s face, but only after smoothing his bangs out of his face again. “I’ll cook you anything you want. Just tell me what you’ll eat.”

 

Shu looks away, tucking his hair back into place, trying not to burst into tears. “I’ll eat one of your ridiculous tomato creations, if you have that capacity. If not…dry toast, perhaps.”

 

“Ahh, don’t cry, don’t cry, I’ll make you whatever you want—let’s start with dry toast so you have something in your stomach, though,” Rei earnestly says, flip-flopping between the urge to actually help, or just keep petting Shu until he feels better. He wavers before he rises, fretting the whole way. “Go lie down. I’ll bring you…well, it’s not breakfast time, but lunch in bed, perhaps? The sun is out, I’ve completely lost track of time.”

 

“That _does_ sound delightfully gothic,” Shu muses, and finally nods, plunking down one final note on the piano to finish out the song before standing. “I’m a burden on you as always, but you did invite yourself over.”

 

“You’re not a burden. Burdens,” Rei firmly says, turning Shu in the direction of the stairs, “are things that I do not wish to have. Go lie down, maybe pretty yourself up a bit. Lunch will be on the way.”

 

Pretty himself up? Yes, for Rei, he can do that. Shu wanders into his room, and a bit of time with his makeup, then his favorite closet, searching out a fine outfit to wear. Rei isn’t wrong. Long, straight trousers, tucked into fine leather boots. A deeply flared coat, with wrought brass buttons. A brocade waistcoat, the perfect amount of accent, topped with a lovely cravat and a statement brooch. No gloves, not yet, not when he’s going to be eating, and he sets aside his boots as well, setting them by the door for when he’s ready to go outside. A top hat joins the gloves and boots, waiting for the exit, and after looking at his pale face in the mirror, he applies just a hint of blush on top of his foundation and concealer. Yes, he looks far less…deceased. Nearly himself again. Certainly well enough to eat dry toast from his dearest friend, and probably not even vomit afterwards.

 

Some time passes, and a quiet knock sounds on Shu’s door before it cracks open. “I did what I could without having to leave for more ingredients—really, let me stock your kitchen properly at some point,” Rei sighs, nudging the door open with his hip, carrying a tray of food and tea. “So you’re getting dry toast and tomato soup, but you’re not obligated to eat either. Also, there’s tea. Oh,” he adds upon actually _looking_ at Shu, and finishes up with staring. “Don’t you look lovely. That’s the Shu I know and love, good boy.” 

 

That brings a real hint of color to Shu’s cheeks, and he straightens up, smiling to himself. “Yes, well, it’s no more than I should have already done, of course. Sit with me, I’ll eat if you eat.”

 

“But of course. Though I’m underdressed now, as always,” Rei laughs, settling down and starting to pour their tea. “Let’s talk about something else, shall we? Did you still want to record this week? Next week is also fine, I understand if you need to move your schedule around.”

 

“Hmm, no, no, I still want you to play your beautiful music,” Shu assures him, relaxing into the idea of Rei’s violin playing, his eyes briefly closing at the thought. “Yes, yes, hearing you will only help. It…it heals my soul, I think.” He dunks a toast point into tomato soup, and nibbles on it. Surprisingly, it goes down easily, with no signs of coming back up immediately, unlike anything else he’s tried to eat in the last few days.

 

“You certainly know how to flatter me,” Rei says, idly plucking up a piece of toast to take a bite, crust first. “Sometimes, I wonder if there’s any future in that sort of art…as in, what if I released an album of _only_ violin? Would I fade into the background with every other violinist, or is there something I do that does stand out? A mystery. And I’m too old to take those kinds of risks, so mainstream rock it is. At least Kaoru-kun believes in me,” he wryly says. “He’s officially decided to team up with me after graduation, did you hear?”

 

“Ah, you two can disappoint your parents together in perpetuity, congratulations.” Shu offers a toast, with toast, and a tight little smile. “And you’ve skillfully secured a backer as well, I assume. At least promise me that after you’re a famous rock star, you’ll release a violin-only album under a pseudonym.”

 

“It’s flattering that you think we’d be signed already, thank you,” Rei wearily says, shrugging. “But, no, we aren’t there yet. Which is more worrisome with every passing day, but…well, at least he has real connections to the entertainment industry, unlike myself. I have friends, but calling upon them always makes me feel a bit dirty. As for that album—well. You don’t need it; I’ll just play for you whenever you want.”

 

“I’ll hold you to that,” Shu warns, and passes a piece of toast over to Rei. “Eat, you promised, I don’t feel as disgusting about eating if someone else is doing it. And I don’t mean just for me, though I do prefer it if the world is forced to hold their tongues when you’re onstage. I mean that you’re good enough to be the next Paganini, and I don’t want to see you squander it.”

 

Rei’s mouth twists wryly, which he hopes he obscures by shoving toast into it. “Ritsu thinks that classical violin is really lame,” he says with a shrug. “So, alas. I’m slightly distracted by that. I know, I know, don’t scold me, I know I’m terribly silly. But I have Kaoru-kun to think about—becoming Paganini take two isn’t going to help him reach his goals.”

 

Shu blinks, trying to process Rei’s words into sense. “I—wait, why should what Hakaze thinks stop you from pursuing your passion, Rei? Because you two are in a unit together shouldn’t mean anything like that.”

 

Rei blinks back at him, his head slowly tilting to the side. “Because…we both want to succeed? And, well, not for nothing, there is a time limit imposed upon him. Three years to become famous, that’s how it is. Who says becoming a proper rockstar isn’t my passion, anyway?”

 

“Ah, I see,” Shu says, frowning as he really doesn’t see at all. Then he sets his toast down, turning to look at Rei. “Actually, I don’t. Are you behaving as if I already know what you’re talking about? I assure you, you forgot to enlighten me, and I care little for gossip.”

 

“Ah. My apologies. I forget, we’ve both been…rather wrapped up in our own lives, haven’t we?” Rei shrugs lightly, glancing down into his teacup. “Kaoru-kun and I are moving in together, after graduation. It makes sense, because we’ve decided to also go pro together.” He hesitates, then shrugs again, self-conscious, in a way. “I suppose we’re also seeing one another, but…I feel as though you knew that part…”

 

Something warm in Shu’s belly turns suddenly cold, and suddenly the food on the tray seems as unappetizing as a bowl of live worms. What he’s already eaten twists in his belly, threatening to come up, and Shu feels utterly stupid, even as he wipes the corners of his mouth. “I’d heard you were seeing someone,” he says quietly. “I didn’t know who. Or that it was, ah, serious.” No, he really can’t blame Eichi for his reaction to Wataru seeing someone at all, he supposes, though he does struggle to keep his composure.

 

“Does it sound serious?” Rei fidgets, glancing away. Oh, no, he had not wanted to have this conversation with Shu. It’s unpleasant in all the ways he thought it would be, except the way he manages to feel guilty is somehow even worse. “Kaoru-kun…is a very good boy, and very calming to be around, sometimes. And very low maintenance, at that. He mostly has his own pursuits. Women,” he wryly fills in. “Which I don’t understand, but…to each his own? Anyway, I don’t think it’s so serious as much as it is…simple? And fun?”

 

 _You were never meant for simple and fun,_ Shu wants to shout, grabbing Rei’s collar and shaking him hard. _You were meant for great passion, great art, greatness in every fiber of your one precious life, someone as transcendent as I’ve always seen you!_

 

Instead of saying that, he sips his tea, which feels cold to the touch, though Shu is certain it’s still warm. “It sounds as though you’re enjoying yourself,” he finally says. “I am glad.”

 

“You’re biting your tongue so hard right now. I can tell, you have that look on your face.”

 

“It’s impolite to comment when other people are doing their best.”

 

“It’s an invitation to criticize me. I can see that you want to, so go on, love, have at it.”

 

Shu’s hands tighten on the teacup, until his knuckles are white, and he doesn’t meet Rei’s eyes. “It doesn’t matter. You’ll live forever, won’t you, immortal vampire mine? So perhaps you’re right to play around now, if your future is infinite.”

 

“So you dislike Kaoru-kun and think he isn’t good enough for me, I gather,” Rei wearily replies, glancing aside as well. “I would’ve thought you considered him a step up.”

 

“From Hasumi? Pond sludge would be a step up,” Shu says with a sniff. “Hakaze is fine. I understand the appeal. I don’t fault your choice there.”

 

“Be nice,” Rei gently chides, though he doesn’t push more than that. There’s no point; Shu and Keito simply loathe each other, and that’s all there is to it. “If you don’t mind Kaoru-kun…then please, enlighten me as to why you’re so obviously bothered.”

 

“You don’t want to hear it,” Shu says flatly. “If you did, you would have told me about this, about him, ages ago. Which is fine. I suppose my opinion is just something to annoy you, these days.” He pauses, and purses his lips. “If you are a friend, you’ll know that last sentence was harsher than I intended.” Which is as close as he can usually come to an apology.

  


“I do, in fact, know you quite well.” And so, instead of getting annoyed, Rei simply sighs, spreading his hands helplessly. “You wanted your relationship to be a secret as well. Is it so wrong of me to want a little less scrutiny? Besides, I knew you would be upset.” He glances aside, suddenly, uncomfortably, nervous in spite of himself. “You and I…” 

  


Shu’s stomach flutters in turn, and he looks aside, hastily grabbing a piece of toast and shoving it in his mouth to give himself a reason not to speak. No, no, bad idea, now it was too silent, Rei would feel compelled to speak! Frightened of what might be said, or worse, what might  _not_  be said, Shu turns, grabbing a small music box from the table by his bedside and cranking it, filling the room with the sudden strains of Liszt. Yes, saved. Very smooth. His mouth is full of dry toast that he can’t seem to swallow, he’ll never find love, and his only savior is a tiny tinkling music box, but that’s all…probably fine.

  


At the very least, Shu is as awkward about this as he is, which is comforting, in more ways than one. That being said, the silence is troubling, obnoxious, and very much the last thing that Rei wants to deal with. “There’s…no easy way to bring it up, and it sounds rather classless, when put into words,” Rei settles upon, fidgeting where he sits. “If it doesn’t work out with Tenshouin-kun—I wish you’d talk to me. I don’t even know if you’d be comfortable with this, but…Kaoru-kun and I, we aren’t—well, we aren’t…exclusive. So.” 

  


Shu’s hand falls still on the music box. He stares down at it, back bowed, extremely still. Finally, he asks quietly, “Are you offering to let me be a piece on the side, Rei?” in a voice that probably sounds as bitter and hollow as he feels inside.

  


“No! No, that’s not what I’m offering at all!” Rei hastily says, automatically shifting closer and grabbing for one of Shu’s hands. “I’m—I’m saying we’re allowed to date other people, as well. Kaoru-kun and I—we care about one another, certainly, but we aren’t…it’s not  _exactly_  something we are planning to have last forever. Does that make sense?” he frets. “I’m sorry, I’m not trying to trouble you, I just…Shu, I…care about you. Very deeply.” 

  


Carefully, Shu sets the music box aside, and swallows the last piece of dry toast, wishing he were alone so he could spit it into the trash without seeing worried looks. His stomach feels cold, his hands feel cold, even his face feels cold. “If that was how you were going to ask me, Rei, I wish we’d continued never mentioning it,” he says softly. “I—you must know how I…you must know, by now. You’re not a stupid man. And you know…me. And the kind of thing I would…never mind, never mind, this is no good at all, it’s not beautiful or artistic or high-class, I’m going to go sew.”

  


“No. You’re going to listen to me.” 

  


Rei’s hands tighten around Shu’s, refusing to let go. “Do you  _know_  why I didn’t ask you before? Because I was certain I had already ruined everything. I…couldn’t protect you before, and then you ended up with that demon anyway. At the very least, if I can be closer to you now—maybe you’ll realize you deserve better than someone trampling on your emotions all the time. Shu—you don’t have to say yes, but don’t push me away.” He swallows, glancing down, and loosens his grip on Shu’s hands. “Apart, we’re fairly useless, I think.” 

  


“Rei…”

  


Shu’s face twists in frustrated pain, and he shoves at Rei’s hands, bitter anger and hurt warring for control of his worse emotions. “After so long, you do it like  _this_?” he demands, ignoring the hot stinging behind his eyes, blinking rapidly. “Not hidden in a sonata or slipped into my notebook in sonnet form or whispered into my ear during a dance, but over  _toast_?  _Non_ , I haven’t fallen so low. I’ll wait for the time you properly decide you want to court me, with fanfare and glamor, and  _damn you_  if you don’t think I’ll wait forever for you to do it properly!” He dashes a hand over his cheeks, standing up straight from the bed, pointing one long finger at the door. “And if you think you’ve done a thing to me other than being the best friend I’ve ever had, get out right now!”

  


“I—you know—I think my toast is fairly good?” Rei stammers, reflexively climbing to his feet to leave before he stops short. He exhales a steadying breath, then reaches out, grabs Shu around the waist to yank him forward into a firm, thorough kiss before he can screech and worm his way away. Just that alone makes his pulse thrum, and he shudders, forcing himself to release Shu with trembling fingers. “You’re too lovely and perfect to be wasted on the likes of Tenshouin.” 

  


Shu’s pulse thuds dully in his ears before disappearing, and all of the strength goes out of his legs. His knees wobble, and he sits heavily back on the bed, face pale, hands coming up to bury his face in it. “That’s…not the kind of thing I can walk away from, Rei,” he whispers into his hands. “Is there…no way it can be just me? I’m terribly selfish, you know.”

  


Rei laughs shakily at that, and slowly slides down to his knees in front of Shu, resting his hands upon Shu’s knees. “I like it when you’re selfish,” he softly says. “But…Kaoru-kun is…he’s something of a grounding force for me, do you understand? He keeps me from drifting off to England to be useless again. It can be separate from this, though. I can promise you that.” 

  


“I don’t understand,” Shu whispers. “How does that work? Separate, I mean. There are…issues of hygiene, and scheduling, I hate the idea of being set aside.”

  


“Condoms, I assure you, are a non-negotiable accessory when it comes to hygiene,” Rei firmly says. “And…not for nothing, you’d be my priority. If you ever felt as though you were being set aside, you could tell me, and I’d remedy it. Shu—ah…I hate to use this right now, but I must. I’m not Tenshouin. I have…one love in my life.” 

  


“That seems very cruel to Hakaze,” Shu says quietly, even as color returns to his face so fast he’s glad he’s sitting down. “Is that something that he’d be fine with? Being set aside so the man he’s with could pursue another passion? I—“

  


He reaches out, grabbing Rei’s hand, looking up at him with more vulnerability than he likes to show. “I’m…not saying no,” he adds. “I don’t know that I could say no to you.”

  


“Kaoru-kun has his own interests,” Rei wryly offers, squeezing Shu’s hand within his own. “Girls. Primarily girls. We’re close, and as I said, we care about one another, but…I don’t think he’d ever be truly happy just being with someone like me.”  _A man_ , is the unspoken, unnecessary addition. “We discussed this when we started. I already told him that…well. There’s one person, and it isn’t him.” 

  


“I—“

  


Shu falls silent, flustered at that admission, and he tucks his feet up, knees to his chest without thinking. “I wish you’d told me any of this before,” he says, hands tight around his legs. “It makes me wonder if you ever would have, if you weren’t upset about Tenshouin.”

  


“…Probably not,” Rei quietly admits, rocking back onto his heels and releasing Shu’s hand. “At least…not any time soon. It’s somewhat terrifying, you know, realizing that if you combine forces with someone, your entire focus of the world will narrow to nothing but them.” He shrugs, glancing down. “And when you started this mess with Tenshouin, I wasn’t sure if you felt the same. Ah, I don’t like being wrong. I suppose we’re similar in that regard, too.” 

  


“Well. Yes. And I terribly hate rejection.” Shu’s smile is bitter. “I thought you had rejected me, you know. A couple of months ago. When I asked you if you wanted to go to the museum as a date, and you declined. That’s how I knew you were with someone.”

  


Rei winces. “Yes, well. I’ll admit, the timing was somewhat off. All of this is…off. I’m sorry. Again, I don’t expect you to say yes. Or even decide anything right now.” 

  


“I love you, Rei,” Shu says softly. The words are antiquated, stiff for anyone else, but he’s wanted to say them in those precise terms for a long time. “Just…talk to Hakaze, I suppose. I greatly dislike the idea of sharing you…but I also dislike the idea of not having you. As Leslie Caron says in Gigi, if I have the choice of being miserable with you or miserable without you, I choose with you, if the choice is mine to make.”

  


“…I believe you still need to talk to Tenshouin-kun, anyway,” Rei says with a faint smile, reaching up to pat Shu’s hand. “I love you, too. I have no desire to lose you. If…I had to, I would give up the rest of the world for you. Just…please don’t make me, I don’t have  _that_  much left to lose, after all.” 

  


Shu hesitates, then nods. It’s more than he’d started the day with, after all. “As long as you don’t ask me to give up sleeping in the same bed as Kagehira,” he says wryly. “I suppose that’s a fair trade. I, too, have little left to lose.”

  


Rei blinks up at him, his brow furrowing. “Why would I ask you to do that?” he asks, genuinely perplexed. “It’s your bed. Come to my apartment when I have it instead, you can share my coffin. It’s much more private.” 

  


This. This is why it’s Rei he’s in love with, even if the thought of Eichi right now feels sore, like poking a loose tooth with the tip of his tongue. He nods, unwilling to say more and dig himself into a deeper hole. “I’ll speak to Tenshouin. I’ve needed to in any case. Hold on a moment.”

  


**To: Tenshouin**

**Subject: Last night**

**Please forgive the texts last night, I was distraught. I feel it would be best to break up. Any objections?**

  


**To: Itsuki-kun**

**Subject: ah**

**i was meaning to contact you, too. sorry about last night. um. is this a breakup with bad feelings remaining or one that’s just kind of. because we don’t want to hurt each others feelings anymore than we already have and then we can be cool again**

  


“Oh, you’re just doing it right now,” Rei mildly remarks, sitting down onto the floor entirely. 

  


**To: Itsuki-kun**

**Subject:**

**because i seriously don’t want you to hate me?? i’ve tried pretty hard to make sure you don’t anymore?? uuuggh i hate this i’m sorry.**

  


“Mm? Oh, yes. Why wait?” Shu asks, already feeling calmer at the words on the screen. “Well. If you had money on an amicable breakup between me and Tenshouin, I do believe you’re about to collect on extremely long odds.”

  


**To: Tenshouin**

**Subject:**

**Amicable! I’m unexpectedly fond of you, but long-term this is not a viable relationship and I believe we are both more emotionally invested in other people.**

  


**To: Tenshouin**

**Subject: Also**

**If we are ever both single at the same time again, we should continue having sex with each other. Thank you for being my first.**

  


“There, that’s taken care of.”

  


**To: Itsuki-kun**

**Subject: whew**

**ok. this i can work with. thanks for being surprisingly calm about this. i seriously wasn’t trying to ruin your life.**

  


**To: Itsuki-kun**

**Subject: jsyk**

**even if we aren’t single i’m interested. just…keep that in mind, heh**

  


Rei blinks a few times, his head tilting slowly to the side. “Wait. Really? That’s it?” 

  


“Apparently.” Shu shrugs. “He’s much more calm about such things than I anticipated. And, well, so am I.” He looks down at his phone, and finds himself feeling more fond regret than unhappy loss. “A first romance, how quaint. I find I’m not sorry it happened.”

  


**To: Tenshouin**

**Subject: Well**

**Tonight, perhaps? Or is that too soon?**

  


**To: Itsuki-kun**

**Subject: mmmmmm**

**as a final send-off perhaps? absolutely**

  


**To: Itsuki-kun**

**Subject: let me amend that**

**if i’m well enough. im dying a little bit right now. but let it be known that i want to SO BADLY. can i let you know later?**

  


“If he hadn’t been good about this, I probably would have hunted him down and gutted him,” Rei says calmly. “But maybe he’s better in a casual setting, what do I know. God, I hope he doesn’t stop chasing after Wataru now.” 

  


Shu makes a face. “He probably will,” he admits. “He’s off the leash now, so to speak, and Wataru  _is_  sort of the reason we broke up. Ugh, I  _think_  I wish them well of each other…”

  


**To: Tenshouin**

**Subject: fine**

**Just let me know. I’m not in any great bind.**

  


**To: Tenshouin**

**Subject: But**

**At a hotel. Only.**

  


“No, don’t wish that, because then Natsume will be  _thoroughly_  distraught,” Rei says with a groan, flopping forward to rest his chin atop the edge of Shu’s bed. “I suppose I should warn Wataru, but honestly, the idea of talking with him right now is so tiring.” 

  


**To: Itsuki-kun**

**Subject: www**

**yeah. i gathered that part. i’ll let you know.**

  


“Ah, now you know how I feel about everyone, every day,” Shu jokes, in a tone that makes it clear it isn’t really a joke. “Hm, I suppose I need to make up with Kagehira now, but I absolutely, supremely do not want to apologize for the very state of my existence, and I fear that’s all I’d be doing.”

  


“Then don’t.” Rei stares up at him through his bangs. “That boy of yours…he paid my dear Ritsu a visit the other day. A delight, really. It takes a great deal of burden off of my shoulders, so I’m grateful for him. Please don’t be too harsh with him.” 

  


Shu blinks. “What on earth does my Kagehira have to do with your Ritsu? That doesn’t make any sense, my friend.”

  


“…Doesn’t it? They seem quite close.” 

  


“No, no, you must be mistaken. The friend Kagehira has in Knights is Narukami, not your brother. It is impossible for him to have more than one friend.”

  


Rei pauses, his head tilting again. “Perhaps,” he slowly says, “he has more than one friend after all. Because he was certainly at our house, and Ritsu let me know that he finds his blood quite—ah—tasty.” 

  


Shu’s eyes widen, and he frowns, staring into space. “I…will need to think about this,” he says finally. “Ah. How unexpected.”

  


“He’s having a good time, if that’s what you’re worried about?” Rei remarks, an edge of amusement in his voice. “He’s a good boy, don’t worry. I think Narukami-kun is also quite aware. Actually, I think most of Knights is…attached at the hip like this, minus that little first year.” 

  


“You know, before Tenshouin and I…you know…I was fairly certain that no one in Yumenosaki was actually dating or having sex,” Shu says wistfully. “I miss thinking that.”

  


“Oh. Oh, Shu, love,” Rei sympathetically says, patting his knee. “I wish I could spare you. Unfortunately, teenage boys are often like this. Even I’m not immune.”

  


“How disappointing. Mind you, I’m counting myself in that. Ever since I started this business with Tenshouin…” Shu makes a face. “I had thought myself above such base pursuits. I’m not terribly impressed with my own behavior, the past few weeks.”

  


“But you’ve enjoyed yourself, I hope? If not, I’m going to go after him as I said, and make him wish he was never born.” 

  


“No, no, no need for that.” Shu waves his phone. “As I said, amicable. We were both foolish to think it could be anything other than, well…” His cheeks turn pink. “At some point, I really am going to become more comfortable with talking about vulgar things, I assume? How long does it take? I’m far more comfortable with  _doing_  them, at this rate. Ah, forgive me, that was crude.”

  


“That’s not crude, and it’s adorable that you think it is,” Rei says, thoroughly amused now. “It becomes easier, I think, though I’m not exactly fond of speaking about it in public…in private, with one’s lover, that’s one thing.” 

  


_Lover_.

  


_What would I have to do, to be called that by you?_

  


Apparently, less work than he thinks, if everything Rei had said is true. That thought is enough to keep him warm, when he’d assumed it would be a lifetime of pining. “Ah…if it wouldn’t be too much trouble, could you leave for now, Rei? I have a lot to think about, and my space…” Rei has always respected his space, perhaps too much, but just now, Shu needs that badly.

  


“Of course, of course. I only stopped by to make sure you were still among the living.” Rei pulls himself to his feet, his back cracking deliberately. “Make sure you come to class tomorrow, won’t you? If not, I’ll be back here again, and I believe you’ll start to find that grating.” 

  


“Never.” The word is warm, however, and Shu reaches out to give Rei’s arm a fond squeeze. “Never, my friend. And you are always, first before anything, my dear friend. But yes, I’ll see you tomorrow, not that we’re in the same class. That would actually make that hellscape  _tolerable_.”

  


“You could always transfer,” Rei sweetly suggests, bending down to brush aside Shu’s bangs, and press a kiss to his forehead. “And then we’d be in paradise, wouldn’t we? Leave Tenshouin to sulk in a class lacking his love interests.” 

  


“Rei. That would be letting him  _win_.”

  


“…This is why I told you to not date him, you know.” 

  


“I am fairly certain you could apply that to any interaction we’ve ever had,” Shu says dryly. “And it will get old  _very_  quickly, old man.”

  


“You’re correct. Anyway, I’ll go before I start on that line of thought,” Rei hums, offering a languid wave as he turns to leave. “Take care of yourself, love. It pains me to see you suffering.” 

  


“Don’t be foolish,” Shu says, brushing the hair back behind his ears. “You came to see me. How could I be suffering anymore? Think more highly of yourself.”

  


Rei quickly turns before Shu can see how  _that_  statement makes him flush. “Yes, well. I’ll be going now. Finish off that tomato soup, or else.” 


	15. Chapter 15

 

Practice sounds fine and all, but meeting up with Shu sounds  _better_. 

  


His parents (or rather, his attendants) have other ideas. Apparently, word of being drunk and stupid the night before spreads fast, and when there are servants posted about his usual escape hatches, not even an excuse of escaping to work at the hotel works. When it becomes very obvious that he will  _not_  be escaping that way, Eichi reluctantly sends off a text to Shu asking for a raincheck—apparently, until he turns eighteen, he will have to  _continue_  being at the whim of his parents and what they constitute as ‘too delicate to go work.’ Lame. 

  


Maybe it’s for the best, Eichi decides, when he contemplates what is within the realm of possibilities. Not school, not pretending to skip over to the hotel and work, but…Keito. Yes, that’s acceptable, and a great deal of pleading does grant him a car that delivers him to the temple doorstep. Keito is still at school, but…well, there’s no one stopping him from sliding into his bedroom, unrolling his futon, and snuggling down into it. Now, wrapped up in Keito’s pillows and blankets, he’s like a present or something. At least, unlike if he had done this to Shu (his now ex-boyfriend, apparently), he knows it will be  _appreciated_. 

  


Keito’s bedroom is heated and smells pleasantly like incense. It’s also probably fine if he takes a nap. 

  


There’s something almost soothing about doing all of Eichi’s work for him, not that Keito will ever tell him that. It’s just as well that he feels that way, since most of his day is spent doing Eichi’s homework, doing his student council work, and covering for him to his parents. He even finds the time to go to one of Eichi’s appointments, making his apologies and picking up his prescription. 

  


All in all, he’s exhausted, but satisfied when he gets home, padding to his room in a pair of house slippers, sliding open the shoji to set his bag inside, fully intending to head out again to do his chores.

  


Ah. There’s an angel in his bed.

  


Quietly, feeling his heart make urgent patterings at him, Keito pads to the futon, kneeling beside it to brush Eichi’s hair out of his face. Unable to stop himself, he leans down, feeling every bit the Prince Charming, and presses a kiss to those soft, dry lips.

  


Minus a handful of sleep-inducing medications, Eichi is a light sleeper—or at least, a reactive one that finds it very easy to wake with a kiss. He exhales a pleased, rumbling sound, his arms swinging up and promptly capturing Keito around the shoulders, dragging him down. “Hi,” he says before he even cracks his eyes open. “I’m living here now.” 

  


“Cool,” Keito says immediately, wriggling under the duvet, winding his arms around Eichi’s waist. “Then welcome home, husband.”

  


“Ehh, am I the husband?” Eichi laughs, immediately squishing himself close to avoid the rush of cooler air that tries to slip underneath the duvet. “I thought you’d want me to be your wife…well, whatever. Mm, you’re chilled, warm up, warm up.” 

  


“I don’t care who you are,” Keito says softly, brushing the hair out of Eichi’s face, feeling an accustomed surge of warmth. He always feels it, when he looks at Eichi, but only now is he not bothering to repress it. “As long as you’re mine. Mm, you feel good, how long have you been here?”

  


“A few hours? Long enough to get comfy and take a nap.” Eichi drapes an arm over his waist, letting their legs twist and tangle together as he settles again. “Shu and I broke up. For real. I’m not that upset about it, does that make me a sociopath?” 

  


“Don’t really care if it does,” Keito says with a shrug, twining his arms around Eichi, shifting until his skinny bones are lying at a slightly more comfortable angle to the hard floor under the futon. “But you’re not a sociopath. You have feelings about people. I should know, I keep having to get you out of the trouble your feelings get you into.”

  


Eichi sticks his tongue out at that, unconvinced. “Not sure, I think that’s just my dick getting me into trouble, usually.” He noses at Keito’s cheek, pleased that Keito is fast to warm up underneath duvet and within his arms. “He broke up with me, then immediately offered to meet up and fuck. I think that’s better.” 

  


“…You two really are meant to be,” Keito says dryly, then immediately, “Actually, forget that. You have feelings about me, don’t you? I know you do.”

  


“If we were meant to be, wouldn’t we still be dating?” Eichi says with a snort of laughter. “I think we’re meant to keep fucking. That’s fun, and requires no thought. Mmnn, if I didn’t have feelings, would I have begged and pleaded to be brought to your house so I could nap in your stupid bed? I always sleep better over here, though, so I guess that could also be a good reason…” 

  


“Are you trying to argue to me that you do?” Keito asks, amused. “I thought you were trying to convince me of the opposite, make up your mind.”

  


“I’m being cute and giving you underhanded compliments. Praise me, I’m adorable.” 

  


Keito pinches Eichi’s hip. “Maybe. Depends. Do you want to date me?”

  


Eichi prods Keito in the shin with his toes. “It’s embarrassing when you ask directly. Do it in a Japanese way.” 

  


“No. But if you poke me with your toes again, I’m going to lick them.”

  


“I could be into that. At any rate, I’m not opposed to it.” 

  


“…noted. So, fine. I’m going out tomorrow, and the week after that, and the year after that. Come with me if you wish. Might even be a wedding. You could come if you wanted.”

  


“That’s better,” Eichi murmurs, even though his face flushes faintly all the same. He huffs, his fingers fumbling underneath the duvet to find Keito’s. “I’ll come. I might die before the year is out, though, sorry, but I’ll stick around until then.” 

  


“Stop using dying as an excuse not to date me. You don’t let it stop you from dating anyone else.” Keito twines his fingers with Eichi’s, squeezing gently. “No matter when you die, I’m just shaving my head and becoming a monk, anyway. I might as well get some use out of you before you do.”

  


“I’m not using it as an excuse! I said ‘yes’, you dummy, listen to me,” Eichi grumbles, digging his toes in this time, as much as he can. “But the part about getting some use out of me, that was hot, you can say that again.” 

  


“Mm?” Keito drags his own foot up, rubbing his toes over Eichi’s inner thigh. “You’d like it if I just took what I wanted, wouldn’t you? Maybe I will. Or I would, if I thought you were up to it right now.”

  


“That’s just mean,” Eichi informs him, dislodging his hand from Keito’s to reach down and grab his foot, stilling it with a squeeze. “You can’t say things like that and then not do it. Besides, it’s hotter when I nearly pass out.” 

  


“Yeah, from airflow restriction,” Keito argues, freeing his foot and laying it down innocently, as if he hadn’t been about nine inches away from touching something delightful. “Not because you’re about to cough phlegm into my throat.”

  


“If that was gonna deter you, you wouldn’t want to fuck me in the first place,” Eichi sweetly says, abruptly sliding his hand right up Keito’s shirt and to his nipples. “I want to pass out because you fucked me stupid. What warm-blooded guy turns that down, geez…” 

  


Keito’s breath stutters, and he squeezes his eyes shut for a second, trying to fight down the way Eichi makes him burn…

  


And stops.

  


Fuck it, honestly.

  


“Not this one,” he breathes, and knocks Eichi’s hand aside, rolling on top of him, pressing him down to the futon and kissing him hard. One of his hands drops immediately to between Eichi’s thighs, squeezing and cupping and stroking Eichi through the soft pajama pants he wears on bad days, the ones that look like trousers but are really stretchy and sweet. He nearly opens his mouth to offer to stop, to slow down, to reascertain consent, and stops himself, kissing Eichi once more instead. Eichi’s not exactly shy about making his intentions known, and he’s been  _begging_  for this for years.

  


_That’s more like it._  Eichi’s breath stutters, caught up in his chest when Keito, stupid, kind, impossible to rile Keito,  _finally_  gives up and shoves him down. He arches up with a groan, grabbing at Keito’s back, his nails scraping down his spine through the fabric of his shirt. “Better,” he sighs against Keito’s mouth, his thighs falling open as his cock twitches eagerly. “It’s hot when you’re like this.” 

 

“You make me like this.” 

  


It doesn’t sound as accusatory as perhaps it should, when Keito’s voice is so rough and hot and eager. He shifts to lay between Eichi’s thighs, bending his head to seal his mouth against Eichi’s neck, seeking the area below his collar to cover in dark, passionate marks. “Hibiki’s going to be the jealous one when I’m done with you.”

  


“Shit,” Eichi groans, his eyes fluttering shut as his head falls back automatically. One particular bite makes his voice break, and he clamps a hand over his mouth, remembering paper-thin walls and  _not_ interested in being discovered. “Y-you can go above the collar, if that’s what you’re trying to do,” he rasps, sliding his other hand down Keito’s back to grab a handful of his ass and yank him down harder. 

  


“I’m not getting you in trouble for this,” Keito says around a laugh, hands thrust down into Eichi’s waistband now, shoving the loose pants down and off completely. He starts to loosen his own trousers, kicking them off as well, sliding up with skin against skin,  _finally_ , that sensation he’s been waiting and aching for for years sizzling through his veins. “If you don’t stop me,” he warns, reaching into his nightstand to grab a bottle, “I’m going to have you now, the way I always should have.”

  


“Does it  _look_  like I’m stopping you?” Eichi huffily demands, dazedly unbuttoning a few of the top buttons of his shirt to better  _breathe_  when it feels already like he’s overheated, out of breath, and dying. “But if you’re gonna fuck me, at least make it  _look_  like you did.” His cock throbs between his legs, and he shudders, biting at his lip as he tries not to arch up too much and just grind against Keito.  _That’s_  a recipe for disaster. “I don’t care if I get yelled at. I’ve been in trouble for less.” 

  


“You’ve been in trouble for  _worse_ , too,” Keito points out, and finally just grabs Eichi by the hips, using the bulk of his strength to flip him facedown. He squeezes out the lube onto his hand, sliding a couple fingers up to tease at Eichi’s hole, dragging slick and warm over it as his breath catches. “Shit,” he mutters, as one of them sinks in, testing the tightness. “Fuck, fuck, I’m not going to last long, sorry…”

  


Eichi stifles a squeak into Keito’s pillow, which quickly breaks into a low, throaty groan. Sure, Keito can do  _that_  more often. “Whatever,” he breathes, arching his back to press back against Keito’s finger, squeezing down with a wincing sigh. “More. Hurry up, I’m not gonna last either, just means we gotta do it again.” 

  


“And again,” Keito agrees, sliding a second finger in when the first one goes so easily. “And again, and again, god, Eichi, I’m not going to be able to leave you alone from now on…”

  


His next kiss is inaccurate and bruising, teeth latching onto Eichi’s neck, his ear, his shoulder when he yanks at that white button-down. His cock throbs, and he rubs it against the back of Eichi’s thigh, gritting his teeth. “How much do you need?”

  


Eichi’s breath stutters hard, his cock giving a threatening twitch that leaves him biting down into the pillow. Reflex almost makes him reach up to his nipples to pinch and pull and toss him so  _easily_  over the edge, but no,  _no_ , he’s  _going_  to get Keito in him first, at least for a second. “Fuck it, put it in,” he moans, biting his lip when he feels Keito’s cock drip against the back of his thigh. No matter how he clenches and squirms down, two  _isn’t_  enough, even if it’s been longer than he’d like since there was something  _good_  in him. “Fuck me up, pleease…”   


This is  _not_  going to take long.

 

Keito buries his face in the crook of Eichi’s neck, groaning low as he reaches down, guides himself up to Eichi’s hole, and starts to push.   


The first slick sudden squeeze around his cock makes him shout, and he bites down harder than he’d intended, pleasure bursting behind his eyes, slamming in harder than he’d meant to. His breath catches, and it’s impossible to get his bearings, impossible to even think when it’s  _Eichi_ , he’s in love, and this is better than every wet dream he’s ever had rolled into one. “Love you,” he breathes, startled to feel the sting of tears in his eyes, desperate for another slick slide of friction as he thrusts in harder, harder. “And you’re  _mine_.”  


Biting into that pillow isn’t good enough. Eichi groans and arches, pushing back onto Keito’s cock as it sinks in deep, panting through the hand clamped onto his mouth turned fist  _shoved_ into his mouth to try and keep himself quiet when Keito bites him. The fact that it’s  _Keito_  makes it somehow better. The familiar scent of him, incense and tea, tinged with the scent of sweat and sex, makes his mind numb and his cock achingly hard, dripping between his legs as he rocks back, hissing out a sharp breath between his teeth when he clenches down hard.   


“Y-yours,” he uselessly rasps, his chest heaving.  _Saying it_  makes his nipples harder, damn it, and he squirms, reaching underneath himself to pinch and pull at one of them. shuddering all the way down to his curled toes. “K…Keitooo…fuck,  _fuck_ , you feel so good, fuck me like this all the time…” 

 

“Every day,” Keito grunts, nipping at Eichi’s neck, hands dragging at his hips. “It’s—“

 

It’s _too much_ , when he’s wanted this for years, when he’s wanted to be buried inside like this, to _have_ Eichi as much as he wants to, or at least, as much as he can in this universe. Eichi is so perfect around him that Keito gasps out just one more breath, then slams in deep one last time, spilling inside him. It’s too soon, and he’d feel embarrassed with anyone else, but like this, he just pants out a breath, reaching clumsily around to wrap a hand around Eichi’s cock. “Sorry,” he groans. “Let me finish you.”

 

The noise that leaves Eichi’s throat is raspy whine when he stifles it into the pillow, quick to suffocate himself before he lets himself get too loud in Keito’s house. Before Keito’s hand even makes it to his cock, he’s coming, spurred on less by the slap of Keito’s hips, more by how he feels Keito coming inside, but he certainly doesn’t _stop_ that fumbling hand from touching him as he spills. “I’m good,” he breathlessly slurs, sagging down with a long, exaggerated shudder. “Sooo good…mmnnn…hey, don’t pull out, stay in there.”

 

“I feel like…your dick doesn’t work the same way as mine,” Keito groans, feeling his cock shrink and wither, overly sensitive already inside Eichi’s hole. “I, fuck. You have about a minute before things get really homo. Time to run away.”

 

“Keito, I’m sooo gay, shut up.” Eichi shifts and twists his face out of the pillow, sucking in a ragged breath that threatens to turn into a coughing fit. “A-actually, you can pull out, and get me my inhaler.”

 

Keito pulls out with a sigh, then grabs Eichi’s inhaler from its familiar pouch, shaking it up and holding it to Eichi’s lips, then pressing the button with familiar ease. “I’ll call that a compliment,” he says softly, and presses a kiss to Eichi’s temple. “Hey, while you can’t breathe. If I spent my life worshipping you, I wouldn’t consider it a wasted life.”

 

Eichi breathes in slowly, flopping slowly onto his side as he holds his breath for a moment, letting the medicine work its way through his lungs. “Every emperor needs a sycophant,” he whispers, his lips twitching into a smile. “Or in my case, a right hand that isn’t useless. I don’t want a worshipper, idiot. I want an equal.”

 

“I didn’t say I was _going_ to worship you, you know,” Keito grumbles, tugging the duvet over both of them. “Just that you’re worthy of it. I have better things to do.”

 

“Yeah.” Eichi lifts a hand, idly poking at one of the hickeys on his neck that feel particularly sore. “Like fucking me.”

 

“Exactly. Lots of better things to do…every day from now on.”

 


	16. Chapter 16

 

_What if Kaoru-kun hates me? What if he’s angry that I’d be even interested?_

 

The thoughts cross through Rei’s mind, though he’s not even remotely sure why. Kaoru is, if nothing else, surprisingly reasonable and laid back about _all_ things, especially this. If anything—“I was starting to think you weren’t serious, about the open thing,” Kaoru admits. “That you, uh, were waaay more attached. I felt bad sleeping around when you weren’t. So this is good. Go get him, have fun.”

 

Which leads him back to Shu’s, at the end of the day. Calling him to warn him…well, that would be better, probably, but Rei does hope the rumble of his motorcycle outside is a warning in and of itself. He parks it within the meager driveway, leaving his helmet hanging on the handlebar before making his way up to the door and knocking. At least he knows Shu is home; the dim, but warm light from upstairs is indicative of that.

 

“Rei?” a voice calls from upstairs, calling down. “If that’s you, give me five minutes. Ten if you really like me.”

 

“I like you quite a bit,” Rei calls up, shoving his hands into his pockets. “So I’ll even give you fifteen if you need it. I’m basking in the moon, anyway.”

 

The upstairs window opens a little higher behind the screen, and Shu looks up at the moon, a smile playing over his lips. “It’s beautiful tonight, isn’t it?” he calls down. “Just an opinion. I’m not Japanese enough to pull that off, am I?”

 

“No, but I’m Japanese enough to know what it means,” Rei replies with a smile, looking up at him with a faint shrug. “Should I be climbing up to that window? The moon makes me strong, but I’d rather expend my energy on other things involving you.”

 

“That’s very dashing of you,” Shu says, amused, “but if you do it before ten minutes have passed, I will not be pleased. I am _trying_ to look my best for you. I went to school and everything, you know.”

 

“I know you did, and I’m very happy about it. I’m also waiting patiently like a good boy, so please praise me when you decide you’re ready to grace me with your presence.”

 

“If all of my preparations go well enough,” Shu says, lingering by the window just a moment longer to look down at Rei’s sleek hair, “you’ll be too distracted to hear any praise. Good boy, good boy.”

 

Then he shuts the window.

 

Ten minutes later, the front door unlocks, and Shu stands in the low warm light, dressed in an embroidered red and gold dressing gown, fastened up to his neck. It’s short, and his legs are exposed, long and lean with his legs clad in black stockings, rolled up to mid-thigh, biting slightly into the flesh there. “Ah…thank you for stopping by,” he says softly, cheeks flushed. This is far more embarrassing, somehow, though he’s mostly clothed, than when he’d shown up to Tenshouin’s hotel room in nothing but a trenchcoat.

 

Rei is fairly certain he’s supposed to behave himself and first declare a few undying words of love—or something like that. The problem with that is that Shu…looks like this, and he, Sakuma Rei, is a teenage boy, no matter how he’d like to pretend otherwise.

 

So. Hmm.

 

Rei opens his mouth, then shuts it again, and takes a lurching step forward to get his hands on Shu’s waist, squeezing as he yanks him forward. The way that soft, satiny dressing gown scrapes against his leather jacket _does_ things to him, and Rei steps forward into Shu’s house, bending forward so that their mouths almost touch. “You’re right,” he murmurs, his breath hitching. “I’m distracted.”

 

Shu lets out a squeak, and his hands wind around Rei’s neck, startled and insanely aroused by the way leather rubs against silk, pressing against the taut flesh of Rei’s body. “I—oh. It’s not…too much? No, no, of course it’s not, I’m far too accomplished to have made such a mistake, aren’t I?”

 

His hands splay out on Rei’s shoulders, glorying in the broadness there. “You’re strong and pretty,” he groans, and leans in close, nibbling at Rei’s earlobe.

 

Unable to help himself, Rei’s hands slide further down, curling around the perfect, round curve of Shu’s ass, and lifts him up without another word, letting those long legs fling their way around his waist. “And you’re just…perfect,” he breathes, taking the few, necessary strides deeper into Shu’s house before dumping him onto the couch and following after him without another thought. Rei’s mouth fastens to the arc of Shu’s neck, and his hands—his hands drag to the pale expanse of skin between stocking and dressing gown, pressing painted nails into those creamy thighs. “Unless you have complaints, I’m having you here, first.”

 

Shu opens his mouth, the anxiety racing into his mind, but he lurches up, winding his legs around Rei’s narrow hips. “I will always have complaints,” he breathes, fingers digging into Rei’s neck. “Please ignore them. You’re the one I always wanted.”

 

The overwhelming weight of that statement alone makes Rei’s fingers shake, and he surges up to catch Shu’s mouth in a wet, heated kiss, sliding up between Shu’s thighs. That dressing gown gets hiked up in the process, and the denim of Rei’s jeans scrapes against Shu’s skin when he rubs down against him. He _wishes_ he could be more elegant and careful about this, but Shu makes his pulse race, and makes him feel clumsy and helpless to anything except what his dick wants. “Kissing you,” he manages to breathe, “makes me want to never stop.”

 

Shu is very sure that as hard as Eichi always made him, he’s never burned like _this_.

 

He clutches at Rei as if he’s trying to physically climb him, yanking him down on top of him, the old couch cushion fabric pressing into his back. He feels as if he’s on the verge of tears somehow, but his skin aches with fire, ice and heat warring in every part of his body, his heart squeezing as if it’ll burst. “Tell me,” he whispers, yanking at Rei’s jacket. “Ugh, no, I’m distracted, I love the way you look so much, I love everything about you—this is so _aesthetic_ —“

 

“Do you want me to keep it on?” Rei breathlessly teases, mouthing another kiss to the corner of Shu’s mouth, then going right back to his throat, sucking and biting down gently against the thud of his pulse. Feeling it thud between his teeth makes him groan, his hips arching down to grind harder. “You,” he pants as he releases Shu’s neck with another suck, forcing himself not to bite down _too_ hard, but still ending up with a bruise left behind all the same, “smell so fucking good.” His hands drag up Shu’s thighs, and still only when he feels lace underneath that gown. “You’re trying to kill me, aren’t you.”

 

“No, but that’s an acceptable accusation,” Shu says, eyes sparkling as he yanks Rei down on top of him. “Ah…do you want to have me, or do you want to see it first, I—I want to show you, I put it on for you—“

 

Rei groans, his head thunking down against Shu’s shoulder. “I want to see it,” he mutters, turning his head to lick the edge of Shu’s ear. “And if I end up with my face immediately between your legs because of it, it’s your fault, with those legs and those thigh highs and _apparently_ , whatever you’re hiding underneath.”

 

Shu snorts out a laugh—the idea of Rei, stunning, gorgeous, kind, talented, superhuman Rei, in tears because of _him_ is rather adorable—and pushes Rei off. It’s a relief to be able to put his hands on someone who he isn’t afraid he’ll break with a slight squeeze, and he stands, hands tugging at the buttons and ties on his dressing gown. He turns away, hand reaching for the light, then pauses. “Light, or darkness? I put a lot of effort into this, I want the effect to be good.”

 

“…Light a candle, then.” Rei leans back, exhaling a slow breath, and finally shrugs off his jacket, cloying, heavy leather too much when he’s already sticky with a fine sheen of sweat. Underneath is just a white tank top, which is _much_ less likely to overheat him when Shu is already doing a fine job of that. Restlessly, he pushes his hair off of his neck, trying to forget how hard his own dick is for a moment. “Or don’t. I see better in the dark, and you’re glowing, anyway.”

 

Shu turns, lighting a few candles, reaching up to light one higher up for better light angles. Then, he carefully lets the dressing gown slip off one pale shoulder, then the other, then down until it dangles from nothing but his wrists, exposing his back down to the cleft of his lace-covered ass. “He never…saw this one,” he says softly, a little embarrassed. “The motifs—I always made it for you.” The little bats on the purple lace would probably be a giveaway, but he says it anyway.

 

“…like you’re supposed to be my demon bride,” Rei supplies helplessly, his mouth parting for his tongue to run over lower lip. “That…it suits you. Come back here, let me touch you.”

 

Shu sets his feet one over the other, then slowly pivots, letting the dressing gown fall to the floor. At least being with Eichi had helped him gain some confidence in the way he looks, if nothing else. He’d tucked his cock down between his thighs, hoping to stretch out the fabric a little less, and is rather pleased with the effect. “Take a good look now,” he orders, “and _then_ you may ruin it. And me, please.”

 

“I’ll take it off before I do the latter.” Rei’s fingers twitch with the urge to touch before he gives up, reaches out, and snatches Shu back over by the wrist. “I can’t wait. I want to devour you,” he bluntly says, tossing Shu flat onto his back again and throwing those long legs over his shoulders before he sets his teeth to one of the ribbons on Shu’s panties, unraveling it with a swift yank.

 

Rei hovers over him like he’s _hungry_ , and Shu is suddenly very sure that he wants to be food.

 

He lets his thighs part instantly, yanking Rei down between them, his cock rising and filling, pushing out the tight fabric. “I want to be devoured,” he groans, hands raking down to grab and squeeze the tight curve of Rei’s ass. “But _only_ by you, it’s always been you—“

 

“You’re going to spoil me for anyone else,” Rei breathlessly laughs, _entirely_ serious as he mouths warm, wet kisses over the insides of Shu’s thighs, sucking on that pale skin and littering them with tiny, dark bruises just above the line of his stockings. His fingers make swift work of peeling those panties off the rest of the way, and Rei leans back, making a point of stuffing them into his jean’s pocket—for safe keeping, of _course_ —before he grabs one of Shu’s hands, pulling it down to press it against the achingly hard bulge between his legs. “Feel what you do to me?” he mutters, his voice low and rough.

 

Shu’s mouth waters, and he nods dazedly, hand curling around that bulge, almost as if he’s attempting to pull it more closely to him. “I want this,” he breathes, looking up into Rei’s eyes, his own blown dark with hunger. “Give it to me, however you want to—god, it feels so big, I want it in me, I promise you’ll like it—“

 

Refusing those demands—and they _are_ demands, not pleas, which is probably the best thing—is something Rei isn’t capable of. He stuffs a hand into his back pocket, fumbling for a condom. “You can take it out,” he says, flicking open the top button and trying, _trying_ not to lose his mind just from Shu squeezing him like this. “Do you know how much I’ve dreamt of having your hands on me?”

 

For some reason, Shu had expected to be turned off by the sterility of the condom, but he isn’t. If anything, something within him relaxes. _Rei understands me, he wants to take care of me, he understands what I want, what I need._

 

That spurs him on, and he finally lets go of Rei’s cock, yanking the condom’s package open. “I’m going to lose my mind when I see it,” he warns, licking his lips, then surging up to press a kiss to Rei’s mouth, then another, so hungry for it that he feels like he can’t stop.

 

“Is that a bad thing?” Rei breathes against Shu’s mouth before kissing him hard, groaning as he holds Shu down for a moment, just intent on kissing him stupid. The taste of Shu’s mouth makes him harder, somehow, and Rei winces, eyes fluttering as he hurries to tug his zipper down and ease his jeans down enough to pull his cock free. “I’m going to lose my mind before I even get _in_ you.”

 

At the first sight of Rei’s cock, Shu feels himself get lightheaded. It’s as big as Eichi’s, he thinks, but he can’t quite tell whether it’s about the same size, or even bigger. Either way, he might be biased, but he thinks it’s even _nicer_ somehow, and the condom trembles in his hand. The thought of how that thick cock is going to feel inside him, opening him up and sending him moaning into ecstasy, is enough to make his cock twitch hard, now free of the panties. He looks up, meets Rei’s eyes, and whispers, “I will have you between my legs or die trying, just so you know.”

 

“You’re so…” Rei swallows hard, licking at his lips. His cock aches between his legs, and he reaches down to give himself a slow squeeze, trying to take away some of that desperate ache. “No one else ever looks _that_ excited about it, but that’s why you’re perfect,” he murmurs. “Your hands are shaking, give me that. I’ll put it on.”

 

Shu hands over the condom immediately, feeling the wet sticky thing flop into Rei’s hand. “I’ve never put one on, anyway,” he admits, then asks, “Should I turn over? Or…I’d love to see you,” he adds, a little shyly. “When you’re in me, the first time. Like I’ve wanted.” Good god, when did he get so embarrassing?

 

“Then stay just like this. You’re flexible, aren’t you?” It’s a gentle tease, but no less a hint of what’s to come as Rei rolls the condom down with practiced ease, no matter how just that much of a touch makes him shiver. “Do you have any lube in easy reach?” he asks, a second before he reaches down to slide a teasing finger over Shu’s hole, and—ah. Feeling how slick he already is… “Or…or never mind,” Rei exhales, the flush on his cheekbones darkening from the rush of arousal that courses through him. “You knew why I came over, I suppose…”

 

“I—was hoping,” Shu admits breathlessly, squirming at the touch to his hole, clenching and eager already. It feels as if he’s hungry at both ends, and he pushes back, hands coming up to paw at Rei’s chest, sliding under his shirt. His thumbs slide over Rei’s nipples, circling, rubbing. “Teach me how you want me to touch you, please. And _just_ so you know, I don’t usually keep lube in the living room, so be glad I _did_ prepare!”

 

“Maybe you should start, if I’m going to be over here more often,” Rei groans, sagging forward into Shu’s touch, even as he hikes up one of those long legs and pulls it over his shoulder. That makes it much, _much_ easier to slide further between Shu’s legs, the head of his cock rubbing against that slick hole, pressing up against him. “I just want your hands all over me, it doesn’t matter where,” he breathes. “The more you cling to me, the better—I want all of you wrapped around me, Shu…”

 

“Enough talk, _enough_ ,” Shu demands, hands reaching down to grab at Rei’s ass even harder, trying to yank him inside by sheer force of will. “If you don’t—just fuck me, just _fuck_ me already!” All he can think about is how empty he is, how that thick blunt head is going to squeeze into him and make him feel _good_ at long last.

 

In an easy display of strength, Rei shoves Shu down with a hand on his shoulder, pinning him down, holding him there and _still_ when he shoves in with one long, aching thrust. It’s so easy, so tight, so _perfect_ that it rips the breath from his lungs, leaving him bent forward and panting, muffling a groan into Shu’s shoulder when he sinks in all the way to the hilt, until their skin immediately rubs and sticks to one another.

 

“Hearing you lose your mind…and sound _so_ …unlike you,” Rei pants out, turning his head to suck and bite at Shu’s neck anew as he slowly, painstakingly pulls back, only _just_ enough to shove back in. Inside, Shu feels so hot and slick that his eyes cross, and Rei can’t think about anything other than how nicely they fit together, how Shu seems to cling to him with every single part of his body. “That’s good. Ahh, fuck, you’re so good…”

 

Shu’s eyes roll back into his head, and he tenses, breathing through the incredible stretch inside of him, each stroke of Rei into his hole making him shiver and groan. He flops back, going boneless, letting Rei bend and tug his body any way he likes, his cock so hard that it drips urgently against his belly. “Tell me…if you need me to move,” he moans, nails clawing at Rei’s back. “I just—nnh—right there, right _there_ , right there, you feel so—just like I thought—“

 

“You…don’t need to do anything,” Rei pants out, bending forward as he thrusts in, taking his _time_ with each stroke, shoving in as far as he can each time to see the way Shu clenches and gasps, clinging to him, clawing holes into him that he relishes feeling tomorrow. “Just…nnn…lie back,” he breathes, sweat dripping down from his jawline to splatter across Shu’s chest. He reaches up, dragging long fingers over that spot, down to a nipple that he gently pulls upon. “And enjoy. Let me take care of you. Fuck, you look…like you love having it in you, Shu…”

 

Shu tries to say something else, but Rei’s cock drives into him at an angle so perfect he sees stars, and all he can do is _writhe_ , squirming frantically to try to get more, to get the thick press of that huge cock exactly where he wants it. He clings to Rei, tears in his eyes when his body just gives up, spilling over his belly a little more with each brutal thrust. “Reiiiii,” he whines, colors bursting in his eyes, pleasure more than any could remember feeling sweeping through his body.

 

Rei’s hold on Shu switches, gripping the backs of his thighs, bending him easily in two as he fucks in _hard_. That same angle, again, again, because it makes Shu tense and shudder like nothing else, makes him _keep_ coming over his stomach and whine out his name like it’s the only thing he cares about.

 

Rei’s own self-control frays. Dimly, he thinks he should be better at lasting than this—but it’s _Shu_ , beautiful, perfect Shu, and his next few ruts in are hard and deep and enough to take his own breath away. He bites his lip when he comes, muffling the ragged groan that wells up from his chest, and he floods the condom, wishing, dimly, that he hadn’t bothered. _Maybe later, when we’re…just us._ “You’re perfect,” he breathes, his eyes lidded as he stills. Rei turns his head to the side, pressing a kiss just over the edge of Shu’s stocking, right over a noticeable bruise on his thigh—a mistake, apparently, when he can _smell_ Shu’s blood coursing so strongly underneath the surface. “Fuck, you smell so good,” he mutters, shutting his eyes and lowering Shu’s legs down so that he doesn’t start chewing on him _again_.

 

Shu twines his arms around Rei’s neck, dragging him down with the rest of his strength, kissing him hard. “More,” he whispers, eyes overflowing with tears, hands trembling, thighs boneless. “Not…sex. Just…you.”

 

“I’m not going anywhere,” Rei quietly promises, sinking down onto his elbows and pressing kiss after kiss to Shu’s mouth as he settles above him. “You’re so lovely,” he murmurs, stroking his fingers through Shu’s hair. “I can’t believe you’re real.”

 

“I’m not,” Shu says seriously. “I’m entirely manufactured by this point. If you find any natural defects, please point them out so I can purge them.” He nestles up into Rei’s hair, and adds, more softly, “For example, not telling you how I felt last year. That is a foolish flaw.”

 

“…Let’s not talk about that.” Rei shifts, gently, carefully pulling out, while reaching a hand down to hold onto the condom and make sure it doesn’t spill. He sits back, tying it off, and tosses it neatly into a nearby wastebasket. “I’ll take the trash out later, don’t worry. Mm, I don’t think you’re manufactured. You’re too beautiful for that.”

 

“That’s because you didn’t see me before I started modifying. That’s all right, if my parents ever try to show you baby pictures, just set me on fire.”

 

“I don’t think that’s called modifying. I think that’s called ‘growing up,’” Rei lightly offers, leaning back and taking one of Shu’s legs in his hands, slowly peeling a sweaty stocking down and off. “These. I like these very much.”

 

“My stockings?” Shu asks mildly, reaching up to toy with Rei’s hair, curling it around his finger. “Or my legs? They’re yours either way.”

 

“Your legs. The stockings are wonderful, but your legs.” Rei leans forward, pulling his hair over one shoulder to give Shu further access to it. “Too often I’ve wanted to touch them like this, so my apologies if I just sit here and pet them for awhile.”

 

“If anyone you know will encourage you to simply follow your heart and pet for a while,” Shu says, amused, “it _will_ be me. Though really, I’d prefer to be the one doing the petting, most of the time…but I can make an exception for someone as beautiful as you.”

 

“I’m not terribly vain, but…after listening to you tonight, I might start to be,” Rei teases, releasing Shu’s leg with a kiss to the inside of his knee, then reaches for the other one, unraveling the stocking from it as well. “We certainly make an attractive couple, don’t we? I always thought we would.”

 

Shu pauses after that, watching Rei work, then tugging him close, nuzzling into his neck. “Why do you think we never…became us, before?” he asks quietly. “I had my theories, but I’m interested to hear yours.”

 

“A few different reasons, I think,” Rei sighs, flopping backwards into the arm of the couch, and dragging Shu with him. He strokes a hand down Shu’s spine, petting him slowly. “One, I felt so incredibly guilty that I left you behind while I was in England,” he admits. “And two—even before that, the idea of being with you…well, I knew I wouldn’t be interested in anyone else ever again. That’s a bit terrifying.”

 

“I know the feeling,” Shu says softly, finger continuing to twirl in Rei’s hair. “You’ll notice I’m not exactly…the most honest with my own feelings, sometimes. And even more obviously, I dislike the idea of having things, then losing them. You’re…a lot. The idea of you is quite a lot to lose.”

 

“Then we are, delightfully and unfortunately, the exact same as always,” Rei says with a soft laugh, cupping Shu’s face in his hands and rubbing his thumbs gently back over his cheeks. “I don’t want to ever fail you again. You’re too special to me.”

 

Shu lets his eyes close for a moment, then relaxes back onto the pillow. “You never let me down, you enormous fool. You’re just a bit slow. And so am I, so once again, we are suited. Are you staying tonight?” Suddenly, he remembers the stupid blond mullet of Hakaze Kaoru, and swallows. “Or do you have other commitments?” That shouldn’t make his belly tight and cool, not after how delightful everything has been, but he _does_ hate being an imposition.

 

Rei blinks back at him, a wry expression crossing his face. “I cleared my schedule for the evening, so I could come and see you. Ah, but I don’t want to be a bother. I’d love to stay the night, but only if it’s convenient for you—and Kagehira-kun. I’m perfectly fine with the couch, or the floor, wherever you wish to stash me.”

 

“Thank you for understanding.” Shu smiles, relieved at the way Rei just seems to _get_ him. “But Kagehira is with Narukami tonight, so feel free to share my bedroom.”

 

“Oh, delightful. Then I picked the right night indeed.” Rei pulls Shu in for another kiss, exhaling a soft breath. “It’s unfortunate that you’ll have to beat me off with a stick now.”

 

“Terribly unfortunate that I don’t have the slightest urge to do anything like that,” Shu murmurs, and thumps Rei’s shoulder softly, “Carry me to the bed, I’m quite boneless.”

 

“Of course, of course. Like a real bride.” Rei shifts, pulling Shu up into his arms as he rises, and adjusts to heft him up into a proper princess carry as if he weighs nothing at all. “You’re too thin,” Rei mildly says, starting up the stairs. “I’ll feed you tomatoes to fatten you up.”

 

“Tomatoes don’t have any fat,” Shu points out, very happily being lifted. “And only about twenty-two calories each. Rei, I quite like being your bride, but don’t forget that I am a man in my own right.”

 

“Certainly. That doesn’t mean that you aren’t allowed to be spoiled once in awhile—and anything can fatten someone up if they eat enough of it, I think.”

 

Rei beelines to Shu’s bedroom, nudging open the door with hip, and deposits Shu carefully into bed. “Do you mind if I sleep naked?” he idly asks, stripping off his undershirt.

 

“M-mind?”

 

Shu’s cheeks flush scarlet, and he tugs the duvet on top of himself, covering the last clinging bits of lace. “Might as well ask if I mind you looking like a debauched god.”

 

Rei’s eyebrows raise, an amused expression crossing his face as his hands drop to his jeans. “Well? Do you?”

 

“Let me see you naked or I’ll faint.”

 

“I aim only to please.” Rei peels off his jeans and underwear in one layer, kicking it off to the floor. “Happy?” he offers, raking his hands back through his sweaty hair.

 

“Desperately.” Shu props himself back up on his elbows, then asks, as casually as he can manage, “Are you one and done? Or can I play with you more tonight?”

 

“I’m all yours,” Rei says with a smile, crawling his way onto the bed and sliding up next to Shu. His tongue runs over his teeth, distracted and hungry. “Helpfully,” he begins, tugging up a corner of the duvet to slip underneath it next to Shu, “my hormones adjust to any situation.”

 

“That’s incredibly helpful,” Shu says with relief. “Ah, don’t think that I’m just making demands for the sake of it. I can always wait, I’m quite accustomed to not having everything I want, no matter how much I deserve it.”

 

“You can have whatever you want, whenever you want it.” Rei reaches out to curl his fingers against Shu’s hip, pulling him over. “You should take the rest of that lace off. It’s lovely, but I do think that what is underneath is even lovelier.”

 

“Beauty in purity?” Shu asks wryly, though he reaches up to take off the lace, dropping it off the side of the bed to curl his nude body around Rei’s. “Ahh, Rei, you must know that beauty and decoration are nothing if not entertwined. That which is unadorned, can it be beautiful?”

 

“Yes,” Rei answers immediately, wrapping his arms around Shu to pull him closer. “I’m looking at you, naked and very, very beautiful, and I think that’s ideal.”

 

“Well, I suppose our aesthetics aren’t _entirely_ identical, though they are certainly compatible,” Shu says, entirely content as he snuggles into Rei’s chest. “You feel quite good like this, Rei. I’d like to stay like this forever.”

 

“Stash me underneath your bed, and pull me out when you need me,” Rei says with a low, rumbling laugh, his lips pressing to the top of Shu’s head. “I agree. This is…very ideal. All of you is.”

 

“We should at least go to Live houses occasionally,” Shu muses, thinking about it as he lets himself be held, wriggling under the duvet and into Rei’s warm arms. “I have a very fine one that I already know how to share with Hakaze, you know.”

 

“Imagine, doing work,” Rei says with a snort, squeezing Shu as he hugs him closer, and shifts to tangle their legs together. “This is why I need you in my life. Whip me into shape and make me make art again.”

 

“As long as you don’t try to pretend that the sellout nonsense you like to pretend is music is art,” Shu says tiredly. “We Loud Voice, really?”

 

“That was the dog’s work of art. I can’t bear to stifle him.”

 

“And who will you blame for Destruction Road?”

 

“The deadline that snuck up on me at four in the morning.”

 

“Really, Rei, the only song you’ve written for Undead that I actually like is Darkness 4.”

 

“Oh, likewise. Be kind, though, I also enjoy Honey Milk, in its own way.”

 

“…The time signature is intriguing,” Shu says with a sigh. “But your brief work for Deadman’s was vastly superior, you must know that.”

 

Rei heaves a sigh, and shoves Shu’s face down into his chest. “This depresses me. Can we not have this conversation when I’m warm and comfortable in your bed?”

 

Shu says, squashed firmly against the side of Rei’s chest, “I love your violin playing. Do it more. Do it for me. In public or private.”

 

“This I will gladly agree to. Mm, perhaps only for you, though. The world doesn’t appreciate it enough.”

 

“You don’t know that. They might. If you gave them the chance.”

 

“Mm, no. I’ve been burned a bit too much for that. Ah, I’ve grown delicate in my old age, I’m afraid.”

 

“…This is a bad conversation. Rei, compliment my dolls, please, you’re the only one that truly understands them.”

 

“Your dolls are beautiful and your taste in them impeccable. I’m sorry no one else understands them. Perhaps I do because you want me to be your doll, hmm?”

 

“Mmm…something like that,” Shu says, relaxing now. “It’s a truly aristocratic hobby, you know. And you have…something of a kingliness about you, my Demon Lord. Perhaps that’s why.”

 

“Please call me that all the time in private, it does things to me,” Rei says, turning his head to the side to press a kiss to the side of Shu’s neck, then nips gently. “You _really_ are my favorite, you know.”

 

That sends a warmth through Shu that makes him turn his head, burrowing into Rei’s shoulder, sliding his arms around Rei’s belly to tug him close. “And what will you call me, then, hmm? I can’t be the only one without a cool name.”

 

“You’re my Demon Queen, of course. Ah, but if you insist on something less gendered…my consort? Both are good,” Rei hums, nuzzling his face into Shu’s hair. “You are _so_ nice to hold.”

 

“Thank you, but I categorically reject both of them,” Shu says pleasantly. “I don’t wish to be defined only by my association with you, Rei.”

 

“How unfortunate. I want to be a set.”

 

“I _am_ the sovereign. You can me the Demon Lord that serves in my museum empire of beauty.”

 

“So…Lords of Heaven and Hell, in that case? Ooh, good, kick Tenshouin directly off his pathetic little Christian kick. I find it very distasteful.”

 

“This is _highly_ aesthetic,” Shu says approvingly. “Yes, I love this. And you. Ah, use me to your heart’s content later, for the moment I just want to be held.”

 

“Likewise,” Rei sighs, squeezing Shu gently around the waist. “I’m going to continue holding you for a long while.”


End file.
